


ignus aurum probat

by TerokNor



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Author Is Losing Their Mind and Taking You Down With Them, Cuck Train Goes Awhoooo, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerokNor/pseuds/TerokNor
Summary: Kray Foresight and Lio Fotia's union is of vital importance to the wellbeing of their respective Burnish kingdoms. Neither is particularly fond of the idea, but both have been raised to be proper heirs and heads of their family, and an inconvenient, loveless marriage isn't enough to break them of their learned habits.But a little non-Burnish gutter rat might be.Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday to my homie, Raevell, who wanted Kraylio/GaloLio cucking, and is, by the power of God and my own blasphemous hand, going to get it.
Relationships: Kray Foresight/Lio Fotia, Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 20
Kudos: 44





	1. Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raevell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raevell/gifts).



A lot of words were thrown around that morning.

He’d heard them spoken in loud, booming, self-important speeches and hushed whispers; he’d heard similar clusters of conversation from everyone, from the house’s lowest rung of servants to the upper echelon of visiting ministers.

“Rioting in the capital.”

“Human rebellion.”

“Burnish forces.”

“The alliance of grand houses.” 

None of them mean much to Lio Fotia, heir to throne of the family of Ardere.

He was considered bright for his age, picked up on much more than adults gave him credit for, but politics were of little interest to him.

He’d rather spend his time reading or drawing in the royal garden, cataloguing all his favorite plants and critters, or searching the palace and its grounds for new hiding places.

But today was special.

Today, he was turning seven.

And to celebrate such a momentous occasion, he would be exploring the Scorch Caverns.

Not that anyone knew that.

They wouldn’t be happy if they knew he was going to such a… dangerous place.

But what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

So he told his current nursemaid, Nida, (or perhaps Nisha? He couldn’t be sure, they changed so often, some were there one day, gone the next) that he was going to play hide and seek in the garden with some of the servants’ children.

But of course, he was not!

Sneaking by the guards was almost too easy.

All he had to do was hop into the open cart of the produce farmers who made regular stops to the palace to replenish its food stocks.

They came and went before 10 a.m. He rolled himself and his little brown knapsack up in the black blanket cover that was used to hold down the now unloaded crates, and they were none the wiser. As soon as the cart stopped, he simply slid out of the back.

The last time he had left the palace’s walls, he had been surrounded by a ring of guards, his nurse maid of the time holding his hand, his uncle on his other side, lecturing him on maintaining the proper distance from his subjects.

It was oddly exciting, freeing even, to walk the streets alone.

No one gave him a second glance.

It was rather satisfying to simply walk amongst a crowd, to blend in, to observe other people without the drawback of being recognized.

Most children might find walking in a city alone, without any guidance, daunting, but he was used to being alone in the palace.

It simply did not occur to him to be afraid outside of its walls.

Not when he’d been dreaming of the outside world ever since he could walk.

Besides, he knew where he was going.

He knew because this route was easy, because who could miss the Terminal?

The center hub of the entire city, maybe even the world.

An extensive system of hover metro cars, blue and white and transparent, all traveling in tight lines all over the city, their tubs the veins, the air pumping them through to their proper terminals the blood, and the cars themselves the life-giving oxygen. 

The closest port to the palace wasn’t too far.

Only two or three blocks.

The doors wouldn’t have opened for someone his height, but luckily there were half a dozen adults of adequate height coming in at the same time as him.

He squeezed passed the throng and headed for the nearest information booth, which was stuffed full of maps.

After a few minutes of focusing, and putting his still-developing reading skills to the test, he was able to discern where he needed to go, and which line was the most suitable.

And so, with a map of the Terminal in one hand, and a map to the Scorch Caverns in the other, he hitched a ride to the outskirts, where tourists and locals alike avoided.

Since the only thing out there were the Scorch Caverns, and everyone knew they were haunted.

But Lio wasn’t scared.

He had read in one of the adult books in the library, the ones he wasn’t supposed to read, that there was a hidden treasure in the Scorch Caverns.

An eternal flame, capable of granting those who found it incredible powers.

As a Burnish, he already had incredible powers.

But he was curious what other powers there could be.

And judging by the photos in the book, even if there was no treasure in the caverns, it would still be worth a trip just for the view.

Although you would never be able to tell there was a view from the outside!

It looked like an ugly gaping toad’s mouth, short, dark, and squat, peeking out of the earth as though hoping a fly might zoom right in.

Lio laughed at the thought as he ran in.

It was dark inside.

But no Burnish need ever fear the dark (one of the few things he remembered his mother telling him, a long, long time ago, when she held him on his lap, when she was still alive, to whisper secrets to him when no one else was around).

A pink and blue fire burned in his palm, as lively and youthful as he, casting brilliant cascades of light all over the cave walls, ceiling, and floor.

He cast the flame forward, just to see how far it would go.

And it never stopped.

Just kept going and going.

He chased after it joyfully, giggling to himself, amused by his own creation, happy, as always, to see his little friend.

But he stopped, eyes wide, flame going out in his distraction, as he saw a flash up ahead.

Pitch dark.

He conjured another flame and threw it up in the air.

There was the flash again!

There were crystals all around!

Blue, red, orange, yellow, and pink!

They all glimmered, their surfaces reflecting his own flame, his light dazzling and breathtaking as it danced around him in beams.

How wonderful.

The pictures had lied, this was even more beautiful.

He smiled, and the air grew warmer, almost as though the cave itself were happy he was here.

Here, the path diverged into two tunnels.

But one path had crystals, the other did not.

Lio didn’t even hesitate.

He followed the crystal path, stopping only to drink from his water bottle and occasionally amuse himself by seeing how many fireballs he could cast into the air at once.

Finally, the tunnel broadened out.

His fireball flickered out of existence.

He snapped his fingers again and focused very hard.

I need a big one, he thought. A big, huge, ginormous ball.

He felt the power building up in his chest, and let it stew inside him until it was about to burst.

And then he let it burst.

A huge flame exploded into existence, sparks flying everywhere, light dashing through the air in gorgeous tongues of fire, lashing out at the ceiling.

And Lio heard a loud scream.

The scream broke his concentration.

The flame fizzled out.

In a panic, Lio threw out another flame.

And he heard another scream, this time closer to him.

And a light switched on, pointed at his face, blinding him.

Lio flinched, but his flame continued to burn over his head.

And he finally got a clear glimpse of this interloper.

A young boy, around his age, with spiky blue hair, a red hoodie, red sweatpants, and a huge blue backpack.

With a flashlight in his shaky pale hand.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

Lio stared at him.

“Get that light out of my face,” he said.

The other boy scowled.

“Get your light out of _my_ face.”

“It’s not in your face.”

“Yes, it is!”

Lio lifted it higher.

“No, it’s not,” he said. 

“If I put down my light, you put down yours!”

“Then we’ll both be in the dark. Do you want that?”

The boy hesitated then, looking fearful, his eyes flickering around the dark cave.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” Lio asked curiously.

The other boy immediately puffed up like an angry kitten.

“No!”

“You are!”

“Am not!”

“Then put your light out and I’ll put mine out,” Lio challenged.

The blue-haired boy glared at him.

“Fine!”

He flicked the switch off, and Lio let his light go out.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved, just staring stubbornly into the darkness with only a rough approximation of where the other’s face was.

But then they both heard it.

A strange…slithering.

Like something dragging its slimy tail along the ground.

And both jumped in surprise.

The flashlight came on at the same time Lio’s fire burst into life in his palm.

“What was that?” the other boy asked, sounding defiant, aggressive, but with a touch of fear.

“I don’t know. Nothing’s down here,” Lio said nervously. He struggled to remember what that book had said, but nowhere in it had there been mention of any form of life down here, besides maybe rats. Could it have been a rat?

“I’m not scared of the dark,” the other boy insisted. “But it’s dumb to be in caves without a light.”

“But why a flashlight?” Lio asked. Wait. No… it couldn’t be…“Are you….not a Burnish?”

The other boy flushed.

“No, I’m not! So what?! You think you’re better than me?”

Lio blinked, the light of his flame reflecting off his eyes like a glint of sunlight trickling through the floorboards.

“No. I’ve just never met a non-Burnish before.”

The boy’s nose wrinkled with confusion and irritation. “How come?”

Lio shrugged. “Just never have.”

“That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

The boy looked as though he wanted to throw his flashlight aside and tackle him.

But then they both heard it again.

That slimy noise.

Like something was approaching this intersection.

“We should go,” the other boy said.

Lio opened his mouth to argue, just for the sake of arguing.

But then he thought, whatever it was, he didn’t really want to meet it, judging by the sound of its scales (?) slithering around, and the slight tremble of the ground, as though the thing were massive.

“Where should we go?”

Lio looked about.

Four different paths.

“Which way did you come from?”

“This way!” the boy said, pointing.

“Ok. We should mark the ways we came through.”

The other boy nodded and reached into his pocket.

He whipped out a switch blade.

Lio flinched instinctively, not liking the looks of the thing.

It gleamed in the darkness like the fins of a quick-swimming silver fish, darting about a pond at midnight.

“Calm down!” the boy hissed. “I’m carving G for Galo. And…what’s your name?”

“Your name is Galo?” Lio asked.

“G-A-L-O. What’s yours?”

“Lio.”

“L…E…O…” Galo murmured to himself as he scrawled an L into the wall.

“It’s spelled with an I.”

“I don’t care. That’s dumb anyway.”

The thing crawling through the tunnels was getting closer.

It sounded like it was coming from one of the paths neither boy had come from.

Which left only one to go through.

“That one?” Lio suggested.

“That one,” Galo agreed.

And without prompting, both sprinted down the tunnel and didn’t stop until they were panting, bent over, their hands on their knees, flashlight bobbing with agitation, little ball of fire jiggling anxiously.

“Where…where does this go?”

“How should I know?”

“What are you doing down here if you don’t know?”

“What are _you_ doing down here?”

“None of your damn business!”

Lio had never heard a swear word in person before.

He giggled, feeling a little guilty, a little naughty by association.

The other boy stared at him oddly, as if not sure if he should be offended.

But Lio was grinning at him, albeit in a slightly nervous way, the fear of being chased not quite out his system yet, making him just a little giddy.

And it must’ve been infectious. 

Because Galo grinned back, his smile crooked and toothy.

“We’re not supposed to be down here, are we?” he asked.

Lio shook his head, blond hair shining in the darkness like a halo, laughing almost hysterically.

“We could die.”

Galo grabbed at his stomach, suddenly wracked with giggles so ferocious they left him speechless.

“I didn’t tell anyone I was coming, did you?”

“No!”

Lio let out a full blown snort like a pig, completely unbecoming of the heir of Ardere.

But Galo didn’t know who he was.

He didn’t care.

He was snorting himself, laughing in that ugly, carefree way people do when they’re alone.

Or when they’re in the proper company.

“…I didn’t tell anyone…why didn’t I tell anyone?” Galo asked.

“If I told anyone, I’d never be allowed to go,” Lio murmured.

“Is it worth dying for?” Galo asked.

His young companion shrugged. “Maybe.”

“…I didn’t tell anyone because I thought…ack, it doesn’t matter,” the other boy said with a scowl, this time not directed toward Lio. “Say…turn your light off for a second.”

Lio frowned at him.

“Not this again.”

“It’s not this again! I’m turning off my flashlight. Look up ahead!”

Lio looked.

Was that…?

“Get rid of the flame.”

Lio bristled at the wording, but did as he was told.

Only because he could see them too.

These tiny little…birds?

Insects?

Little stick-like creatures, with glowing pink wings.

They fluttered about the ceiling of their tunnel like fairies, their wings giving off gentle sparks as they flapped.

Lio reached out instinctively.

One gently flew down to his index finger.

It was so light, so delicate.

It flapped its wings, its tiny, dark eyes glowing as they stare at him.

Lio felt an odd sensation in his gut then, almost as though…but no, it’s just a bug.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Go away, bugs!” Galo shouted, waving his arms.

“Stop it,” Lio hissed, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop. “They’re not hurting anyone.”

“Bugs are bad. They destroy crops and carry disease. You probably have cancer now.”

Lio rolled his eyes.

“…Where are they going?” Galo asked.

They were moving away, weren’t they?

Moving forward, and…veering off to the right.

Lio made to follow them, but Galo grabbed him by the collar, causing him to splutter with indignation.

“What…what?” he asked irritably.

“You’re just going to follow a bunch of bugs?”

“…Do you have a better idea? They’re probably going…somewhere. I’d rather be going somewhere than nowhere.”

Galo’s face was cloaked in darkness, so Lio couldn’t see his expression.

All he could feel was Galo’s hand, still on his collar, his fingers trembling against his neck.

Warm and calloused.

…Rather young to be hardened by hard labor, wasn’t he?

Finally, Galo let go.

And grumbled, “Fine! But I’m not happy about it.”

“I didn’t ask,” Lio said smugly.

Galo grumbled something at him, but having won the argument, Lio completely ignored him.

They follow the light of the bugs for a while.

Just as Galo started to grumble again, something about “stupid boys who look like girls running around like they own the caves,” the light of the bugs began to fade.

But the tunnel was no longer dark.

It had widened, the walls spreading further apart.

A gentle blue light filtering in.

“What’s…what’s that sound?”

Lio could hear it too.

He walked forward eagerly.

And then he saw the source of the sound.

It was a waterfall, a huge, magnificent waterfall spilling out into a babbling river, situated right across from them.

“…What…what is that?” Galo gasped.

But Lio didn’t have an answer.

Instinctively, he inched forward slowly, dropping onto his knees.

And it proved to be the right decision.

As their tunnel was no longer a tunnel, but a drop off point.

A window.

Into another world.

Because stretched before them, and down, far, far down, was a great underground ecosystem, trees and bushes and shrubs covering every inch of the ground, vines growing so thickly on cave walls that they were scarcely visible. The pink-winged fairies they had been following flew out, some settling in trees, others lingering near the sparkling blue water. Fish leapt out of the river, mouths opened wide, snagging a few out of the air. The plants that grew by the riverbed were unlike anything Lio or Galo had ever seen, some scarlet, some violet, and others a bright yellow.

As they watched, their petals opened, released curious golden spores that hovered pleasantly in the air like lanterns.

“Holy…did you know this was here?” Galo asked.

“No. I just knew there was supposed to be some kind of treasure,” Lio said, his eyes wide. “But this…this is just as cool.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Galo protested. “It’s pretty, but I came here for treasure.”

“There could be treasure somewhere down there,” Lio suggested.

“…Maybe, but there’s no way to-”

The blond grinned, wild glint in his eye.

“Wait. Wait, no, hold on, Lio, don’t!”

But Lio wasn’t listening. Heart hammering, all he could hear was the rush of water and the thrill of adventure.

He stood up and sprinted towards the end of the tunnel.

“Wait! You blasted idiot!”

Lio leapt off the lip of the window.

It was exhilarating and terrifying and terrible.

Free-falling, the entire world spread out beneath him, horrible arms outstretched to catch him in death’s embrace.

But then, there was water.

A deep, deep pool of water.

A small lake, fed by the waterfall on the other side of the cave (that he had seen, but hadn’t told Galo, because it was much more fun, much more, to hear him yelling after him).

“You’re a moron, Lio!” he was still shouting overhead.

Lio laughed, his voice echoing, just barely carrying over the clatter of the waterfall.

“The water’s warm,” he cried. “Come on down!”

Galo’s head poked out from the tunnel edge.

Even from this distance, Lio could see, or perhaps simply imagine, the look of fear and distrust on his face.

“No way.”

“Don’t be a baby!”

Galo’s head retracted.

Lio could hear the gears grinding in his head.

There was a split-second pause.

Then he heard a warrior cry.

And then he grinned as the other boy took a running leap.

And came shooting out of the tunnel like a cannonball, a blue and red blur.

As soon as he hit the water, waves flowed over Lio’s head, ripples and eddies swirling around his ears.

“My…my backpack is so heavy,” Galo shouted. “I’m gonna drown!”

“Don’t be a baby,” Lio said back. As Galo paddled desperately, the weight of his bag pulling him down, Lio grabbed at it.

He began pulling it, and Galo, to shore, the blue-haired boy shouting and complaining the whole time.

“Shut up,” Lio said bluntly. “I have a backpack too and you don’t see me drowning.”

“You’re not prepared,” Galo gasped, spitting out water, looking like a drowned rat.

“I’m better prepared. Prepared people have less, not more. They know what to bring and not to bring,” Lio said with an air of self-importance.

Galo threw a ball of mud at him, and he squealed.

Backpacks were forgotten as the two rolled around in the mud, Galo smearing mud in Lio’s thick, golden hair, Lio stuffing mud up his shirt.

“Gross! Gross!” they both howled.

But they quite forgot the danger inherent in their discovery.

It was hard not to, in such a beautiful, alien place.

And children rarely feel the anxiety of adults, with their constant second-guessing and analysis of exit strategies, living in the future and the past, but never the present.

Both boys, still young and full of ceaseless energy, darted in and out of the trees, racing each other to different landmarks.

First it was the funny looking blue tree, with the green spots.

Then it was the massive mushroom, bigger than a cart, small than a building.

Then it was a huge pile of smooth stones.

And on, and on.

Lio had never been so dirty in his life.

He’d never laughed so hard either, breathless with glee, heart almost bursting with the joy of this strange, perilous freedom.

Galo was so different from boys he’d played with in the past.

He didn’t speak politely, didn’t treat Lio with utmost respect, actually argued with him over what they should do.

Had a million different ideas that came spilling out of his mouth in cascades, leaps and bounds.

It was a nonstop train of chatter, with very few stops.

Lio was so used to the children of servants, cowed and docile and timid.

He had no idea what to make of Galo, had no idea what he was going to do next, and that was, in a way, more exciting than this secret place.

After a while, they grew tired of running around.

And they both leapt up on top of a large, smooth rock that pointed towards the waterfall like an arrowhead.

“Look at the ceiling,” Lio commented, rolling over on his back and pointing.

Galo looked up, also on his back.

“Oh…it looks like…”

“All those crystals. They look like stars, don’t they?” Lio said, tracing constellations with his fingers. “I see a dog with a long tail.”

“I see a hobo sleeping under a bench.”

“I see…a lion. With a huge mane.”

“I see a dumpster on fire.”

“You see some strange things,” Lio said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I do. I’m looking at one right now.”

Lio turned on his side.

And came face to face with Galo, who was staring right at him, face contorted with mock concentration.

Lio poked him in retaliation.

But it was a mistake, because Galo poked him right back.

And soon they were caught in a ferocious tickling match, Galo aiming for his stomach, Lio aiming for his neck. 

They grappled so hard, they almost fell over the edge. 

“Mercy! Mercy!” Lio shrieked, laughing so hard it was starting to hurt.

Galo, whose neck was ridiculously sensitive, agreed to a ceasefire.

They both panted, breathless from the exertion, bodies sagging bonelessly against their cool rock cushion.

Laughing turned to wheezing and wheezing turned to quiet gasping.

And gasping turned to a contented silence.

“Do you think we’re the first person to ever discover this place?” Galo asked after a while. “Like this could be our secret spot, no one else knows but us?”

“I guess.”

“Can we name it?”

“…What do you want to name it?”

“Galo’s Water Park?” the boy suggested.

“That’s really dumb.”

“Ok…Galo’s Whirlpool?”

“That’s also bad.”

“Ok, smart guy, then what would you name it?”

“It should be a combination of both of our names,” Lio insisted. “We both found it.”

“…Ok,” Galo relented. “So…?”

“GaloLio Falls, how about that?” Lio said, smirking at him wryly. “You happy? Your name is first.”

“…It’s not bad,” Galo admitted. “Kinda mouthy. Like you.”

Neither boy was looking at the other, but they smiled at the exact same time.

What a tiring day.

Time to nap.

Time to close their eyes…

A warm wind blew over their red foreheads and cheeks, lulling them into a sense of tranquility.

Galo dreamt of soaring up high, diving in and out of the clouds, the sun warm on his back, the wind cool and refreshing under his arms. A little golden bird flew before him, fast and light and clever, too fast for him to catch up to. But he still tried anyway, willing himself to fly faster. His fingers stretched out to grab a hold of it, eclipsing the sun.

Lio dreamt of swimming in a deep, bottomless lake. He wasn’t afraid, not at first. But then the winds began to pick up, storm clouds forming overhead. The waves began to lap over his head. And worse, something was pulling at his limbs, a great and terrible monster that he couldn’t see, but could feel. Grabbing his arms and legs and tugging him into the depths, whispering “Mine, mine, mine.”

The dread felt so real that when he opened his eyes, for a terrible moment, he thought he couldn’t breathe, and he truly was underwater.

But no, no, he was fine.

Someone’s hand was in his.

He gripped it tight, thinking it could be a mother he couldn’t remember, or the father whose face was nothing but a blur.

But it was too small.

And too real.

He only felt their touch when he was asleep, and he certainly was awake now.

His vision cleared.

And he saw that in his sleep, Galo had turned over onto his belly.

And his head was buried in Lio’s left arm, his left arm slung over Lio’s chest.

Lio thought about waking him up.

But he couldn’t stop staring at the other boy’s face.

It was so different when he was asleep.

He was smiling.

There was less stress.

Less agitation.

It was so…at ease.

A nice dream perhaps?

Lio wanted to wake him up, and ask him.

But that would be ruining a good dream, and he couldn’t do that, it wouldn’t be fair.

Not just because the chill of his nightmare still clung to his skin like a spiderweb.

Still, he couldn’t go back to sleep, maybe…

What was that sound?

Like a low…rumbling.

Or…no.

It was more like a humming.

And it was coming from the center of the oasis.

As Lio watched, some kind of…presence was coalescing there.

He should’ve been afraid.

Or at least wary.

But he merely tilted his head, feeling more curious than anything.

Galo startled awake, causing Lio to jump in surprise as his hand squeezed into his shirt.

He opened his mouth, as though to scream as he caught sight of the…spirit.

But Lio stopped him.

He wasn’t sure why, but he knew he had to.

He clapped his hand over his mouth, and shook his head.

It was giving off great waves of heat.

And it was headed towards them.

Galo skittered back, almost falling.

But Lio stayed put.

And when the spirit came close enough, he just stared at it.

Up close and personal, he could see the beginning of a shape.

Like…a serpent.

Long and sinewy and…graceful.

Beautiful even.

Its great eyes glittering like diamonds.

“What is your name?” Lio asked.

But the spirit did not answer.

And Lio didn’t expect it to either.

It extended a claw-like hand to him.

His fingers stretched out to meet it.

But just as his finger brushed up against its claw, he felt a great swell of power, in his chest, as though he’d just been electrocuted, his hair standing on end, his knees weak, his shoulders trembling.

“Lio!”

He shut his eyes.

Galo’s scream was all he heard as darkness rushed in, filling his head, his chest, and every crevice of his body.

* * *

  
“Lio? Lio? Are you ok?”

People were standing above him.

Blocking the light.

Crowding him.

Galo was the only face he could focus on.

Galo, who was crouched over him, on his knees.

His face relieved as he saw Lio’s eyes open.

“What…what happened?”

“You fell,” Galo whispered. “And then the…the thing touched you. And I went blind, I couldn’t see anything. And then we were here…and all these people…Lio…who are you?”

Lio opened his mouth, wanting to answer him.

But he can’t.

Because someone yelled, “He’s awake!”

And all of a sudden, he was swept forward, pulled to his feet.

Cameras flashing.

People, chattering in his ear.

His…uncle.

Throwing his arm around his shoulder. Forced smile on his face.

“What were you thinking?” he said, all of his teeth flashing as he beamed for the press. “Your parents would be ashamed.”

That almost stung.

But Lio was too distracted.

Something else was hurting him more.

Someone else mattered more to him than his uncle’s opinion.

He wiggled hard in his uncle’s grasp, desperately twisting and turning.

Galo looked so small and alone, standing there by himself.

Staring at Lio, confused, concerned.

And a little awed.

Did he know?

Had someone told him?

Or…had he figured it out?

Lio kicked his uncle in the shin.

“You…brat!” his uncle hissed.

But Lio was weaving between adult legs, too small and quick for anyone to grab him immediately.

He skidded to a stop before Galo, the adults still not quite caught up to him, but closing in fast.

“Who are you?” Galo said.

Lio shook his head, not wanting to explain.

“Why did you come here?” he asked.

He wanted to know.

He had to know, before he never saw him again.

“…I wanted to be a Burnish. Like you,” Galo whispered. “I read somewhere that…I hoped that the Scorch Caverns could give me that power you have.”

He was ashamed of his own self admission.

His eyes were sad and wistful.

And full of longing too.

Lio grabbed his hand quickly.

Just before they could pull him away, pick him up, and carry him back to his gilded cage, he pulled it close, right to his chest, just outside his rapidly beating heart.

“Lio Fotia. Family of Ardere,” Lio murmured, kissing the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Lio wanted to answer, but they were on him.

They were pulling him away.

He shouted an answer, but Galo couldn’t hear.

Not with all the adults, talking and shouting over him.

Lio was taken away, and wrapped up so tight in a blanket that he could barely breathe, and Galo was left outside of the Scorch Caverns, as alone as he’d ever been.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered to no one.


	2. Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a day late. I will try and update this every week until it's finished. 
> 
> I kind of slacked off. Just barely missed being two days late. Yikes. Anyway.

Lio Fotia was so focused on drawing the delicate leaves of the Enebaum flower that he’d been carefully and lovingly cultivating for the last five months that he didn’t hear Kray Foresight approaching until he said, “Good morning.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin.

His colored pencils spilled all over the muddy ground.

Lio was speechless at first.

So totally distracted from his surroundings that the sudden presence of an invasive species didn’t register properly in his head.

He stared up at the newcomer with blank eyes.

“…Who are you?” he asked, his voice rougher than he intended, his brain still off in the clouds.

The other boy stiffened.

He was a tall boy, athletic, with a strong physique, broad shoulders, strong chin, arresting cheekbones.

Something passed through his eyes that Lio didn’t like, a sharp glint not unlike the one that often passed through visiting diplomats when they talked about him like he wasn’t there.

But it was gone.

And Lio, ten years old and still forgiving, dismissed it.

“My name is Kray Foresight.”

Lio stared at him uncomprehendingly.

The slightly older boy looked offended.

“You don’t know who I am?”

“…Should I?” Lio asked.

“Yes!” Kray said indignantly. “I’m the heir of one of the most prominent Burnish families through out the thirteen colonies.”

“Really? That’s neat.”

“Neat?!”

Lio hadn’t thought the boy could look more offended, but he managed.

“Didn’t they tell you I was coming?” Kray asked sullenly.

“…”

If Lio was totally honest, they might’ve murmured something about it.

If he strained his mind very, very hard, he could vaguely recollect one of his caretakers mentioning that he was to look “presentable” for something or other around this time…but they had not specified why.

Or perhaps they had.

“…This is very improper,” Kray said stiffly. “I will be telling my father about this.”

He waited, as though expecting Lio to beg for him not to.

But Lio just nodded nonchalantly, returning to his drawing.

“…Don’t you know who you are?” Kray asked exasperatedly.

He crouched to Lio’s level, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

He was wearing white, after all.

A very formal-looking white blazer with gold trim and matching pants, as though he’d just come from a boarding school.

Meanwhile Lio was sitting on the ground in jeans and a sloppy smock.

He cleaned mud off his fingers by rubbing it against his shirt. Kray’s eyes narrowed in disgust, but he didn’t comment.

“Lio Fotia,” Lio replied dryly.

“Your family is- my family is… our families,” Kray spluttered. “You and I are supposed to be married someday.”

Lio stared at him as though he’d grown horns and hooves.

“…Gross,” he said flatly.

Kray recoiled as though slapped, looking somewhere between hurt and outraged.

“Not you,” Lio said hastily. “I mean. The idea. Of being married to anyone. Being stuck with only one person for all of your best years. Growing old with them. Either dying, and making them feel bad, or watching them die. Kind of weird idea, don’t you think? Twisted. We should get rid of it.”

Kray’s eyes widened as though Lio had suggested he squeeze naked into a sewer drain.

“Is that what you believe?” he asked disbelievingly. “That a perfect union is just some…idea? Some silly concept that we can get rid of whenever we want to?”

The little blond boy, skinny and straight-backed and unassuming, the ruler of his far-off garden kingdom full of nothing but clouds and ideas, stared evenly back at him.

“Yeah?” he said.

Kray stood up straight, his shoulders back, towering over the other boy, and crossing his arms as though he were an adult, about to lay down the law.

“That’s unacceptable,” he said slowly, authoritatively. “You are forbidden from thinking that ever again.”

Lio’s right eye twitched.

For a solid seven seconds, they stared at each other, one on his knees, the other with his hands on his hips as though he were prepared to give a rousing speech to his battle-weary troops.

Then Lio couldn’t hold back anymore.

He started laughing, giddily, hysterically.

Laughed so hard his stomach began to cramp almost instantly, twisting into uncomfortable, yet amused, knots.

Instantly, Kray shrunk as though he were a balloon that had been popped.

He had never been laughed at before.

No one had ever done that to him.

Who was this little brat, and who did he think he was?!

“Stop that!” he shouted. “I’m going to be your husband, and you-you’re not allowed to laugh at me.”

“Not allowed? Oh, just like I’m not allowed to have a thought?” Lio asked mirthfully. “Oh, your highness, forgive my rudeness.”

He mimed a position of prostration, hands going up and down in worship.

Then he giggled and finally got to his feet.

“Come on, let’s find something fun to do,” Lio said, making as though to walk past him.

But Kray grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back.

“No! This is all wrong,” he said. “You-you act like a common street boy, or something!”

“Listen, Kray Foresight. You’re all wound up tight like an alarm clock. You need to relax.”

“How can I relax? The boy I’m supposed to marry is some-some frivolous little floozy who thinks the-the sanctity of marriage is a joke. You should be ashamed of yourself, the entire house of Ardere should be ashamed of you!”

He thought Lio would look offended at that, at least.

But the maddening little demon spawn was snorting at that too.

“Probably.”

He yanked his arm free.

But to Kray’s shock, Lio didn’t walk away.

No, he grabbed his wrist.

His fingers were soft, much smaller than his, more delicate.

They had a curious effect on the larger boy, sliding across the skin of his wrist to his palm, and then into the gaps of his fingers, intertwining as though they belonged there.

“Come with me. I’m going to show you something.”

…What a strange boy.

Kray’s indignation and frustration melted away, as though by magic.

Suddenly he couldn’t remember why he was so angry.

He let the boy pull him out of the garden.

They hurried down the halls of the palace. Kray was in peak physical shape, involved in numerous sports and activities to keep his mind and body active, but Lio ran…well. At break neck speed.

As though his mind were always ten paces ahead of his body, and his feet just couldn’t keep up.

In no time, they had dashed their way up multiple flights of stairs.

And burst out of a hatch, onto the roof.

Looking out over the grounds, and over the walls themselves.

The city bustled around them, cosmopolitan and modern and bright, a stark comparison with the uptight tradition of the little, closed off island.

“I come up here to think. And do this.”

Lio leaned over the battlements.

He made a sound like a choking bird.

And Kray let out a noise like a strangled chicken as he spit right over the edge.

“That-that’s disgusting!”

“See how far it went? You should try it.”

“I will not.”

Lio shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

He shoved his hair back with his dirty hands, getting flecks of mud in his golden strands.

Kray couldn’t help himself then.

Roughly, irritably, he reached out and stroked his companion’s hair, teasing out the dried mud.

Lio slapped lightly at his grabby little hands.

“Knock it off.”

But Kray ignored him, continuing until he was satisfied it was all gone.

“You gonna lick me clean like a cat?” Lio snorted.

Kray blushed, although he wasn’t sure why.

“Don’t say things like that either.”

“Or what? Or what?”

A muscle in Kray’s jaw twitched.

“Or this!” he shouted.

His fingers curled like claws.

And a fireball burst into existence into his palm.

An impressive shape and size, and perfect, just as his instructors had taught him.

He thought maybe this would shut him up, finally.

Earn him some of the respect he was owed.

But Lio took one look at his hand and grabbed it.

With Lio’s fingers pressed against the back of his palm, warm and soft, he lost focus.

And he gasped, quite involuntarily, as Lio’s hand suddenly burned.

It actually burned him.

He had never, ever, in his left felt what it was like to be burnt.

It hurt.

But he didn’t want it to stop.

And the fire in his hand was growing.

Swelling as though it was about to explode, the heat almost dizzying, almost terrifying in its intensity.

And what a color.

Pink and cyan and yellow.

Gentle in a way his fire was not.

Yet hotter than anything he’d ever produced.

Lio let go of his hand, and the almost giddy euphoria he felt at his contact went away so quickly, he almost felt the keen grip of despair clenched around his heart.

But how foolish.

How…juvenile.

The fire that they had made, they had made _together_ (what was that, a star exploding, in the desolation of his universe?) soars off into the sky, a phoenix with great, sweeping wings of gold.

“I can do a fairy too,” Lio said breezily, totally unaware of his effect on the other young Burnish. “And a unicorn. And a griffin.”

He conjured those creatures in mid-air.

Their forms dainty, well-detailed, as though crafted by a master sculptor. The fairy dancing, the unicorn galloping across a plain of fire, the griffin soaring through burning stars.

How Kray’s heart burnt with jealousy as he watched his betrothed so casually produce the flames he spent years trying to conquer and bend to his will.

He did it so effortlessly, his face cheerful rather than strained, his eyes clear and dreamy rather than full of tears and sweat and the fear of failure.

How he hated him in that minute.

Felt his jealousy clawing at his insides like a cat buried alive in the hollows of his ribs.

“How are you…it must be your bloodline,” Kray said. “The house of Ardere must be more powerful than I thought…or…or because your family is smaller than mine…there’s greater power concentrated in your blood, that must be it.”

Lio seemed quite undisturbed.

“If you say so. It’s just make-believe anyway.”

Kray grabbed him by the shoulders, pinning him against a battlement.

“It’s not make-believe!” he shouted in his face. “It’s the fate of the Burnish in our hands, don’t you get it? That’s what I was saying before…you weren’t listening. You and I are going to unite kingdoms of Burnish…our marriage can’t fail. It can’t. Do you get it? You can’t just…do what you want. There’s too much at stake.”

He wanted to shake some sense into him.

But the boy refused to be cowed by his words, or his actions.

He shrugged Kray off, because although he was smaller and lacked the same muscle, a strange energy seemed to pass through him like a current, making him impossible to hold.

“You’re very pushy,” Lio grumbled, finally showing a sign of being fazed, if only a little. “I guess you’re used to people doing what you say.”

“Yes,” Kray said hotly.

“That’s ok, though. I prefer that, to be honest.”

Kray blinked.

He might be the most confusing person Kray had ever met.

“…You’re lying. Or. Not making sense.”

“Kray, I have no interest in politics,” Lio sighed. “I like to draw and read and explore and have fun. You clearly care more about this…leadership stuff and bossing people around. That’s fine with me, just so long as you don’t drag me into it. If we’re going to be married someday, we should come up with some ground rules.”

It didn’t matter that it was preceded by the decidedly unpleasant “if.”

_We’re going to be married someday._

That was good enough for Kray Foresight.

Later that night, when he went home, he would tell his imperious and stern-eyed parents that the meeting went very well, and that Lio was a well-read, intelligent young man with great potential.

Right then and there, though, he cracked a smile.

The first smile that had crossed his face since he’d arrived.

“You have a nice smile,” Lio said. “You should try it more often.”

“You should try talking less,” Kray shot back.

But it wasn’t an order.

* * *

They told him later that his behavior was unacceptable.

And that he was to be punished.

But like with all of their similar threats in the past, they never follow through.

All things considered, it probably didn’t matter that much.

Kray reported that his behavior was acceptable to his parents, so the house of Adjustus was happy.

After that, he saw Kray three times a week.

Whether that was sitting in on one of his private tutoring sessions, making his tutors uncomfortable as he demanded to know why they were teaching him such useless things.

Or just hovering as Lio worked on an art project.

Sometimes it involved burning things together.

Lio found those times far more enjoyable.

Kray seemed to relax more when he was burning something.

When he was watching Lio burn something.

“Your…control is admirable,” he grumbled once.

Lio shrugged.

“Really nothing to it.”

“I disagree.”

“Like always,” Lio said with a wink. “Maybe you’d be better at being a Burnish if you actually tried to enjoy it.”

Kray scowled.

They were up on top of the castle again.

The only place Lio could really let loose.

And he did let loose.

Every day it seemed as though his fire were growing bigger and bigger.

Big enough to burn the whole sky.

He was like a newborn star.

“It’s not fair.”

“Sorry you feel that way, but it’s not a competition.”

“It is. Everything is.”

“No wonder you can’t have any fun.”

He liked to tease Kray.

It was so easy.

He was so riled up all the time.

So proper and stiff like a little wooden doll.

Lio enjoyed getting him to show signs of life.

“Watch this,” he said.

He inhaled deeply.

Grabbed his shoulders, crossing his arms across his chest.

Let his cheeks puff up rather comically.

And tilted his head to the sky, as though to devour the skies.

He thought about the Scorch Caverns then.

And Galo (where was Galo now? Was he safe? Comfortable? Happy? He wouldn’t be so stuffy. He’d be more fun if he were here).

And a fireball, larger than his own body, bursts out of his throat in a brilliant lava-like plume.

Kray’s eyes widened, round as the head of a spoon.

He cringed, as though expecting its embers to fall down on their heads.

But it didn’t happen.

Because Lio threw it up higher and higher, until it was a distant red splotch that staining the otherwise cool, indifferent blue sky.

And when they couldn’t see it anymore, Lio let it disappear.

For once, Kray had nothing to say.

He stared at his husband-to-be and didn’t say a single word.

And Lio, smug and pleased with himself, simply told him to lighten up.

* * *

Years passed.

Kray still visited, but less frequently. Once he turned fourteen, he stopped visiting altogether, becoming more involved in politics, being groomed for his central role in them, attending fancy parties and balls and galas, learning how to write and give grand speeches, getting to know his house’s military and their various alliances. He trained almost nonstop all day, every day, not just physically, but mentally.

Meanwhile, Lio was taught, against his will, what his duties as Kray’s husband would be.

Stand by his side and smile.

Make statements about the house of Ardere’s respect and admiration for the house of Adjustus.

Stay out of the way and understand that due to the size and power and ancient nobility of the house of Adjustus, he was to be deferential and gracious while Kray took on the more empowered role.

It was against his nature to be deferential.

But his apathy towards politics and power at least could be leveraged.

It could be manipulated to become passivity and submission out of sheer laziness.

And so, after almost two whole years had passed since Kray Foresight’s last visit, Lio Fotia was able to greet his betrothed with only a fraction of the spirit he’d displayed during their first meeting.

Some of his new attitude was due to a natural growth away from childish energy, shedding his hyperactive and curious skin, and growing a new façade of poise and grace in its place.

But other parts of it could be attributed to a maturity grown from years and years of accepting his fate.

Of learning to live with who he was, and what kind of life he would be required to live.

So he bowed his head respectfully.

He let Kray take his hand, and kiss the back of his palm.

Stood straight up, wore an expensive silk shirt, and slacks, had combed his hair, and looked him in the eye.

Kray was impressed, and a little shocked too.

Lio could see it in his eyes.

As a child, it might’ve felt like some form of defeat.

But as a teenager, it just felt like growing up.

“Lio Fotia. It’s been a long time,” Kray said, bowing.

Lio did not bow back.

Some mischief still lived in him as he smiled instead.

But he did incline his head out of respect.

“Kray Foresight. You’ve grown quite handsome,” he said honestly.

It was true, of course.

He was indeed much taller.

Even more muscular, with thick, powerful thighs bulging with the strength of a track star, a chest built like a wall, and brawny arms that seemed to swell every time he used them to gesture.

As Lio took in the boy he had met so long ago, Kray took in the sight of him too.

Was suddenly made aware of the fact that Lio was not a child anymore.

And that he wasn’t either.

Had his skin always looked so soft and delicate? Had his hair always shone so brightly, looked so mesmerizing, as though to run one’s fingers through it would feel like stroking a silk pillow?

Had he always been so slender and slight, his shoulders so narrow, his legs so long, and hips so well-defined?

Were his lips always so tantalizing, his slippery little tongue darting out to wet them?

And those eyes.

As if simply being physically attractive, and built like perfection, were not enough, his eyes still betrayed some of the willful spirit Kray had met when they were much younger.

Some of the spirit that made his flame burn so powerfully.

A power that he could not, would not, let escape him.

“I have been given permission to take you outside of the confines of the palace walls,” Kray informed him. “We are going to see a movie. Just the two of us. The theater has been booked for our convenience.”

Lio’s eyes darted to Kray’s face, rather hopeful and intrigued.

“I haven’t been outside the palace’s walls since I was a little boy,” he said.

Kray snorted, rather uncharacteristically of him.

Lio smiled out of pleasant surprise.

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “You’ve snuck out.”

“Caught me,” the blond teenager said with a wink. “First time I’ve been _allowed_ out, how about that?”

After that, they are escorted out to a waiting carriage.

Which took them to the rented-out theater, where they watched a rather dull, parentally-approved period drama about the Burnish-Human Peace Accords of 2047.

It was boring as hell, but somewhere at the beginning, just out of curiosity and boredom, Lio grabbed Kray’s hand in his.

The other teenager stiffened, but he didn’t let go.

And when Lio leaned his head against his shoulder, eyes half-closed, to breathe in the smell of his cologne and bask in the warmth of another person, he didn’t move away.

And when Lio, in a spark of inspiration, some of his old spirit once against shining through some of the propriety he’d had drilled into him over the years, kissed his neck, Kray felt a jolt of lightning splitting his stomach in half.

And then, only then, did he push Lio away.

Not because he wanted to.

On the contrary, he quite, quite wanted to.

Because he needed to.

Because this was wrong, there were guards outside, and some stationed inside, and they could all see him and Lio, could see them touching, could see into their hearts, it felt like, knew their dirty secrets and desires and wants.

They couldn’t do this here, couldn’t do this now, couldn’t do this at all, no, no, no.

“Stop it,” Kray had to whisper.

“You’re no fun,” Lio whispered back. “Don’t you ever let loose? Don’t you ever just…give in to your urges? Don’t you ever…want something you can’t have? Or can’t have…yet?”

His hand dropped to Kray’s thigh.

And to his betrothed’s great embarrassment and mortification, his fingers brushed against his crotch.

“We are not married yet!” Kray hissed indignantly into his ear.

Lio’s head turned quickly, gracelessly, snapping like a hunting dog on point.

He was much too close, his pink lips smirking, coming even closer as the boy crowded him against his seat in the theater.

“Do you want me?” he asked.

Every muscle in his brain short-circuited then.

He was suddenly aware of a new heat, a powerful wave of guilty pleasure hammering against the shores of his mind, a forbidden want seeping into the sagging shack of his countenance.

“I want to do as I’m told,” Kray whispered.

Lio’s lips brushed against his ear.

“I’m yours anyway,” he said. “Why wait?”

“It’s wrong.”

“We’re young. We’re hormonal teenagers. We’re both attractive. And the best part, we literally are not allowed to be with anyone else. It seems like you and I could have…other benefits than simple political and social connections. Come on, Kray. Kray Foresight, my future husband. Remember when we were kids? How you wanted so badly to shut me up? Well here’s your chance. Can’t talk if my mouth is-”

Kray couldn’t bear to hear it.

He reached forward and covered his companion’s mouth.

And then he felt, and heard, Lio laughing through the cracks of his fingers.

Laughing so hard the guards could certainly hear it.

Louder than the movie, louder than he’d ever laughed at Kray, and he’d certainly laughed a lot.

“Shut up,” Kray hissed, face red, feeling as though he had been duped.

Lio shoved his hand off his mouth, looking rather pleased, his face glowing silver in the low lighting.

“You were just making fun of me again,” Kray spluttered. “You haven’t changed a bit since we were kids, have you? You-you little-”

“Partly,” Lio said with some mirth in his voice, just a hint of malice curling his tongue. But a tiredness passed through his eyes, a morose empathy. “But there was some truth to it. I _was_ promised to you. And I can’t be with anyone _other_ than you. And we still have two years before we can get married, two total years of sexual frustration. I mean, I did want to rile you up, just like the old days. But I don’t know. You could let loose just a little. Especially with someone you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.”

He playfully slapped Kray’s thigh then.

And Kray was absolutely mortified to feel a jolt of heat going straight to his lower belly, his whole body suddenly bathed in warmth.

Suddenly he’s sweating.

The brat.

The little bastard _tease._

“Why do you have to be like this?” Kray groans, slumping in his seat. “Why couldn’t you be a polite little proper Burnish socialite?”

“There’s no such thing,” Lio said. “They might pretend to be proper. But it’s just pretend. Just make-believe. Didn’t you always hate make-believe?”

“At least…”

“You’d never know where you stand with them. You’ll always know with me.”

“I don’t know anything about you,” Kray grumbled.

“You know enough.”

That was infuriating.

More infuriating was the way he didn’t touch Kray again.

Not a single time, the whole rest of the night.

And when Kray bid him goodnight, on the palace’s doorstep like the world’s most painful and pathetic cliché, he bowed rather dramatically.

“It was a most enlightening evening, Master Foresight,” Lio said with a pompous air.

Kray scowled.

“Brat,” he said.

But he said it without any malice.

Perhaps because Lio exhausted him, and he simply did not have the power left to be disapproving.

Or perhaps it was because of something Lio had said.

_I was promised to you. And I can’t be with anyone other than you._

His heart fluttered at the thought.

Perhaps he’d misjudged him, all these years.

Assumed the worst of him.

Perhaps…but that was the worst part about him.

He might claim he was honest.

But Kray Foresight could never tell when he was telling the truth. When he was teasing. When he was withholding.

When he was deliberately trying to antagonize him, and when he was genuinely trying to be kind.

Perhaps he wasn’t kind at all.

Perhaps he was just a cruel spirit deep down, profoundly troublesome and mischievous, the future bane of his existence.

Perhaps he was a liar, a perfect liar, a trickster and a deceiver.

Perhaps he was plotting against Kray, perhaps he had plans to-

Perhaps he was just very, very, very sexually frustrated.

Curled up in his carriage, knees to his chest, the shades drawn, no one to see him but himself, he could admit that to himself.

But never to anyone else.

Especially not…

* * *

The boy he was thinking of was sprawled out on his bed.

Staring up at the canopy of his bed.

Dark blue, almost black.

Dotted with glitter designed to look like stars and nebulas.

Or the ceiling of a special cave.

“I’m going crazy,” he declared to his stuffed lizard, Bauga. “I’m a lunatic.”

 _Perhaps you will be allowed more freedom once your end of the bargain has been fulfilled,_ Bauga said back to him.

Or, so he imagined (he wasn’t totally crazy, not really).

“I doubt it. Kray’s got so many rules. He lives by all these boring rules. He’s obsessed with them. He’s obsessed with Burnish this, Burnish that. And yet he doesn’t seem to really appreciate being a Burnish.”

_You could teach him._

“Not my job.”

_He’s jealous of you._

“How depressing for him.”

_You could love him. He could love you._

“I could love anyone, if I put my mind to it.”

_That’s a good thing._

“No. Not really.”

_He’s handsome, isn’t he? And not so bad. Not a bad person, at least._

“I don’t know him well enough to say that.”

_You do. You’ve known him since he was a child._

“People change a lot, growing up. It’s a big part of it.”

_You haven’t changed._

“Haven’t I?”

He rolled himself up in his sheets like a cocoon.

What would be like, sharing a bed with Kray Foresight?

Was he as stiff in the bedroom as he was on the television, coldly proclaiming Burnish superiority over humans?

How would his mouth feel, on his lips?

Soft? Warm? Plaintive? Shy?

Nervous, like a virgin?

Would he kiss hard, like the beautiful men and women in those dramatic romantic dramas he wasn’t supposed to watch yet?

Would they be consumed by a primal surge of lust like a blazing fire storm, intoxicated beyond rational thought, until they threw themselves at one another with wild abandon and forgot everything around them, passion hit melting point, withering like leaves before the alter of a higher sensation only comparable to a deity, but smoking around the edges and breathing in ash gratefully with blind eyes?

_He’s a Burnish, like you. It’ll feel like being smoldering in someone else’s flame, your skin burning like sunlight embers, it will soak your soul in the celestial ether of a thousand suns._

_A star collapsing._

_It doesn’t matter which Burnish._

_As long as they’re a Burnish._

Try as he might, he couldn't quite convince himself that he was telling the truth. 

* * *

The next morning, he is told that Kray was being called away. 

To a neighboring kingdom, to foster more Burnish friendships. 

To fortify the Burnish minority's hold on a non-Burnish majority empire, allowed for too long to gather its resources and strength. 

He would be gone for a long time, they told him. 

How...dull. 

Lio had resigned himself to two more years of boredom, of keeping to himself, drawing, reading, learning how to play instruments, studying other languages, poetry, anything at all to keep his mind active while his body was caged. 

But Kray had sent him a gift, they said.

Something special. 

A person, they said. A driver who, with strict supervision, could take him anywhere he wanted to go. 

Because that was Kray's wish, his parting gift, his last message for a long time. 

In a good humor before he left, he had sent Lio a present as a measure of good faith, a symbol of his trust in him. 

And a sign of what their marriage could be, as long as Lio behaved himself. 

Lio was quite intrigued by the premise, and waited at the palace gates, sprawled out on the ground like a commoner. 

"You are not to misuse this gift in any way," his uncle hissed. "Sit up straight, anyone could see you. You are to be home before 4 p.m. You are not to eat, drink, or sleep anywhere outside of the palace. All locations are to be approved a day in advance-" 

"You heard the messenger," Lio grumbled mulishly. "Kray didn't impose any rule or condition." 

"He's trusting you implicitly," his uncle said rather disdainfully. "A rather...short-sighted decision. But as he is still just a child, I am still responsible for your behavior until he has grown enough to take full responsibility for your actions-"

"That must be him," Lio said, standing up quickly. 

It had to be. 

Gorgeous white carriage, hovering without a sound above the pavement, sleek and elegant and purring like a kitten. One way glass on the windows, polished to sparkling perfection. 

"To the library and directly back!" his uncle commanded, but Lio was already scrambling in. 

He yanked the door shut without hearing his second demand, laughing to himself. 

The air inside was cool and refreshing, had this new leather smell. 

Lio's eyes darted forward, to the partition separating him from his new driver. 

"Where to?" 

The driver glanced at him. 

He stared back. 

Then, he slammed his hand against the partition in excitement, grabbing at the grill and yanking it back impatiently. 

He reached out and grabbed the young man by the shoulder. 

He gripped him tight. 

"Galo," Lio said with a boyish grin. "Galo, do you remember me?" 

The driver was stiff under his hand. 

Until he heard his name. 

And he turned back now, familiar blue hair messy and ruffled, as though he hadn't bothered to comb it that morning, his shirt not tucked in, his uniform rather sloppy as though he hadn't ironed it, to look at Lio directly. 

"...No...no, it can't be...Lio?" he whispered. 

Almost reflexively, mindlessly, he grabbed Lio's hand, on his shoulder. 

And to Lio's shock, the child he'd met so long ago, a mere boy then but a man now, he gently pressed a kiss on the soft skin of the back of his hand. 

"I remember you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was going to write something horny, but I almost feel like the time is not right yet. So. Suffer in horny jail. Bonk.


	3. Dignity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really bad this is so late, but I started....a new job. And I like...am scum, so. 
> 
> I was also playing a lot of freakin' dead by daylight with Raevell, who I'm writing this fanfic for, so blame her?? She's the reason I can't update this shit as often as I should. 
> 
> You can also blame warframe, I'm also playing a lot of that.
> 
> But anyway. 
> 
> I swear to god, I will keep updating this every week until it's done.

They told him the job was so easy.

Just get close to Kray Foresight, they said.

It shouldn’t be hard.

He was boastful and arrogant and hard-headed.

He liked to talk about himself.

He would adore any non-Burnish that accept the Burnish as the superior race.

And they were right.

When he first met Kray Foresight, he was stunned by how young he was.

Younger than he was, although he didn’t look it.

He was taller, broader, and more well-spoken.

And of course, his skin had the glow of a healthy and well-adjusted boy who had been fed properly his entire life.

“Are you the replacement?” he asked.

They were at the House of Adjustus.

Larger than the House of Ardere, not that Galo would know that, yet colder, its architecture gothic and withdrawn, the walls dark and gloomy, thick, dark trees grown around its grounds so that none could properly see inside.

It was a stain on the city, the capital of a kingdom known for its particularly brutal human treatment policies.

And yet.

Playing the part of a simple-minded human, desiring only to please his Burnish superiors came easy enough to him.

It was pretty much the same as working in retail.

Galo did not answer his blunt question, only bowing his head.

He knew that would be the answer Kray wanted.

And was right.

A flash of something like condescending arrogance passed through his eyes. The slightest smile quirked at his lips.

Galo hid his own grin far, far within the recesses of his mind, never letting a sparkle of triumph cross his own eyes.

For weeks, he played the part of a silent mirror, only reflecting what Kray most wanted to see.

Even though Kray often spoke dismissively of humans, right in front of him.

Even though he swaggered about his house like the king of the castle.

Which he was, but how obnoxious anyway.

Even though he spoke quite callously about his servants and anyone below his own status.

Even though he said, within earshot, how non-Burnish were only fit for hard, menial labor and could only be trusted with the lightest of responsibilities.

It was hard to bite back the obvious retort, that having non-Burnish responsible for the hard, necessary labor was a level of responsibility highly integral to the upkeep of society as he knew it.

But Galo kept that to himself.

And when he was given this assignment, to be the driver of someone “close” to Kray Foresight, he just sighed internally and thanked the gods that it was time away from the House of Adjustus.

And Kray himself.

He had never expected…

“…How…how are you here?” he asked lamely.

Lio had requested that he drive away from the palace.

He hadn’t told him where, just to drive.

And he’d craned his neck, staring behind them with relish.

Watching the palace as it grew smaller and smaller with each meter they sped away.

He turned back now, smiling at Galo through the rear-view mirror.

“I should be asking you that,” Lio said, smiling broadly.

He smiled a lot.

Galo had to avoid eye contact, he couldn’t keep meeting those strange, beautiful eyes again, or else he might crash.

“…I was looking for work. And…a friend told me about this gig. And I thought it’d be better than working in a restaurant. Or in a factory.”

“Small world,” Lio said.

Galo smiled.

“Small world,” he echoed.

They both went silent for a moment, both rather preoccupied with their conflicting thoughts.

On Galo’s part, he was worried about his mission, and what this meant- but it didn’t mean anything, did it? This shouldn’t change anything…

On Lio’s part, he was thinking about that day.

Thinking about how wonderful it had felt, exploring and playing with no one watching him, no one telling him what to do or how to act.

And how, his entire life, he had felt heat, was intimately related to intense temperatures, and yet he had never felt quite as warm as he had, sleeping on that rock with Galo.

“Well. Mr. Lio Fotia,” Galo said finally. “Where are we going?”

“…What are your orders? Any limits?” Lio asked.

“Limits?”

“You know. Kray keeps me on a tight leash. There have to be places you’re not allowed to take me. Strip clubs, maybe. Brothels.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Galo said with a smile and a shrug.

Lio grinned back.

“Where would you like to go?”

“Shouldn’t you be telling me, sir?”

“Don’t call me sir,” Lio said.

“Shouldn’t you be telling me…ma’am?”

Lio leapt out of his seat and goosed his neck.

Galo cringed, ticklish and sensitive.

“Hey! I’m driving, idiot.”

“Just call me Lio.”

“Okay, Lio. Where would you like to go?”

The petite blond leaned back in his seat, looking contemplatively out at the morning sky.

A beautiful gentle blue.

Like…an ocean.

“…Let’s go to the Aquarium.”

“Isn’t that expensive?” Galo snorted.

Lio reached into his sleeve and withdrew a shiny black card.

“Not for me,” he said with a smile.

* * *

Galo had never stepped foot in an aquarium in his life.

His first impression was…how dark.

Almost eerie, at first.

Walking in the low-lighting.

Only Lio’s bright hair to guide him.

But then he caught sight of the exhibits, and the bright, yet somehow still gentle glow of the tanks.

And suddenly, it was like being in another world.

“What is that?” Galo gasped. “It has so many tentacles.”

“Octopus,” Lio said. He was leaning so close to the glass, his nose was almost pressed against it, the hot air of his breath leaving behind a fog. “Not native to our planet. Very rare, only 7 of the 13 colonies have octopus DNA.”

“And this?”

“Native to this planet. Iridescent arbolas. Native to the oceans of Kadia.”

“It’s alive? It looks like a plant.”

“Plants are alive,” Lio said.

Giggling as Galo smacked his shoulder.

“You know what I mean. Plants aren’t alive the same as you and me.”

“How do you know? Have you spoken with one lately?”

No one else was around.

It gave Galo the opportunity to chase after Lio as though they were children again, scurrying away from their parents’ prying eyes.

“Clownfish,” Lio said, pointing. “Not from this world.”

“A cousin of yours?”

Lio grinned.

“No, but I have one of yours here…”

He pointed and Galo leaned in close to read the plaque: “Blobfish.”

“Very funny. Looks like my uncle.”

Galo hooked his index finger in his mouth, miming a fishing lure.

And when Lio beamed at him, giggle on his lips, the young man’s heart jumped as though he’d just fallen off the edge of a cliff, and into a ravine.

There was something about all of those beautiful, almost unearthly creatures, floating gracefully, harmoniously together, blissfully unaware of the dangers of the world.

Creatures that, in the wild, would spend their entire lives in fear and constant pursuit of survival.

Here, they could simply exist, untethered and unattached.

Trapped, but free from fear in exchange.

“Have you ever seen a whale? Or an archleviathan?”

Galo looked away from the otter tank, having been riveted by their adorable furry faces and tiny little paws and funny loping hind legs.

“Those are them big floaty bastards?”

“They’re not bastards, they’re beautiful. Very intelligent. And they’re massive. Big as a building, I heard.”

“Doesn’t seem right,” Galo said. “Nothing alive could really be that big.”

“Have you ever seen the ocean? Up close? It’s huge too. Only makes sense that big things live in it.”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” the driver commented wryly, flicking at the glass of one display.

Lio grabbed his wrist to force him to stop.

“And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?” the blond murmured, tilting his head at his companion, the gesture almost sweet, but tinged with a sliver of mischief.

Galo gulped, throat feeling tight for a moment.

“Even when you were a kid, you always had a…smart-ass way of twisting words. Trying to make me look stupid.”

“I didn’t have to try that hard,” Lio said with a smirk.

“See, there you go again. But you know what? I think you’re just good at deflecting.”

Lio paused.

They stood several feet apart, Galo on one stair, Lio halfway up another stair.

A great huge tank stands in the middle of the spiral of stairs, glowing a cheerful, pleasant blue as little fish of all shapes and sizes and colors swirl about.

The water reflected off Lio’s bright, lovely eyes like the sparkle of a million crystals, the dark of his pupil the space between stars, and he was struck by a thought, like a bolt from the blue:

The only ocean worth seeing twice.

“Smarter than he looks,” Lio murmured.

He stepped down, just a little, using his elevated height to reach down, fingers sinking into Galo’s hair.

They ruffed his hair gently, scratching a soothing rhythm into his skull, easing an ache he never knew he had.

“Going on the offense is still a manner of deflecting too,” the blond murmured.

Galo’s eyes flickered to the wonderful tank, wondrous in its size and density.

“There’s a lot we have to learn about each other, I guess,” he said.

Lio blinked, looking curiously in the same direction as Galo.

“Oh?”

“Well, I am your driver after all,” Galo said, standing up straight at attention and mock-saluting. “I am honor-bound to take you wherever you want to go. I have to know you inside and out, watch your every step, and serve your every need. I am at your disposal, my liege.”

He bent down on one knee as though proposing.

Lio shook his head.

“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice weary rather than amused.

Galo stood up immediately, suddenly concerned.

“What? I was just joking,” he said.

“I don’t want you to ever bow to me,” Lio said quietly. “Not even as a joke.”

Galo blinked.

“…I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“There…are some boundaries we should establish. But…for now, let’s just have fun. I haven’t been out since…the last time I saw you, I’d say.”

Lio’s hand danced along the hand rail.

He resumed walking and Galo hurried after him, matching his pace.

“That’s a long ass time. What the hell did you even do?”

“I kept myself amused.”

The walkway was lit with intricate little drawings, some of which Galo recognized just from seeing them in the tank, but others are strange and new to him, probably some of those large creatures Lio swore existed.

“Have you been…alone this entire time?”

Lio shrugged.

He was so short and skinny.

Even after all these years, he didn’t seem like he’d grown at all.

Galo didn’t have a hard time seeing that little boy he’d mistaken for a girl.

Although.

There were parts of him that had certainly grown.

Lio, as though sensing his train of thought, gave him a pointed look, hand on his hip, other hand cocked rather smugly against a beautifully intricate wall of synthesized kelp.

“Not entirely alone. But…it has been lonely.”

_You too?_

“You’re not alone now,” Galo said.

Fuck.

He didn’t mean for it to come across so…

Lio bit his lip as though trying to hide a smile, turning his head.

“There must be at least a million drivers in this colony. And just my luck…you’re mine.”

And Galo thought, just my luck.

He’s trying to kill me.

* * *

Lio rolled himself up in blanket after blanket, feeling as giddy as though he were coming down from a great high.

_What are you thinking, Lio Fotia?_

“Mind your business.”

_Don’t get distracted. Don’t forget._

“Oh, shut up.”

* * *

"Where are we going today, Lio?" 

"The library?" 

"Boo." 

"...The park?"

"Better, but only marginally." 

"...You want to drive down the highway, driving as fast as you possibly can, and see how many speeding tickets my uncle can get thrown out?" 

"That!" 

"I was joking. He would kill me. But...how about we meet in the middle? Let's go down one of the oldest, dirtiest, more derelict backroad we can find, and you leave me drive." 

"Now that sounds like a plan. But only if you promise me one thing."

"And what's that?" 

"Your foot has to completely push down the pedal, all the way, at least once." 

"Oh, that's terrifying." 

"Hm-hm." 

"...Let's do it."

* * *

"Say, Lio?" 

"Hm." 

"Does Kray ever...tell you anything?" 

"...Not really. He prefers I know as little as possible. I'm a bit of a trophy husband for him, I assume."

"...Does that bother you?"

"No. It can be nice to be a trophy. It's nice to be wanted. Even if it's for shallow reasons." 

"You could never be a trophy anything." 

"What makes you say that?"

"You're not shallow, and any person who tries to pretend you are is wasting a very valuable...thing." 

"That's very kind of you, Galo. But Kray doesn't really need me. Not for...the kinds of things he does. And I have no interest in being needed. I'll settle for being wanted. It's a nice trade off, don't you think?"

"...I don't think so."

"...Well. It hardly matters. I don't have a choice, and even if I did, I'd still choose him anyway. Because it's easy. And it's expected. And...it's none of your business, so stop giving me that weird look! You know, I don't really want to go anywhere today, Galo, your services aren't needed!" 

"...Yes, sir."

* * *

"...Mr. _Foresight."_

"....Ok, there's no need to do that, Galo. I get it." 

"What ever do you mean?"

"Don't play coy with me!" 

"...Ok, alright. I can't keep professional distance between us. For one thing, I don't want to. And for another thing, I've never been professional in my entire life." 

"We can agree on that." 

"...How about we just don't talk about Kray Foresight, how about that?" 

"That's acceptable to me, Mr. Thymos." 

"God, just the sound of that makes my ears bleed, Lio, quit it." 

* * *

“…”

“…What do you think about the humble nature of De Fomaneuvre’s color palette? I’ve always found its casual elegance to be intellectually stimulating, especially in contrast with his rival from the same era, Treboneau, who had an eye for the theatrical.”

Galo’s eyes were glazing over before his first question was even finished.

“Uh…blue’s cool.”

“Not a fan of art?” Lio asked, hands neatly clasped behind his back, teetering on his heels. 

“Not art like this,” Galo said. “Hanging up on a wall for people to just stare at.”

“What kind of art do you like, Galo?”

“The naked kind,” his driver replied bluntly. “Very Avant Garde. Next gen, you know?”

Lio nodded, pretending to put his index finger to his lip in contemplation.

“What kind of human models do you find most invigorating? Tall? Brunette? Chesty, perhaps? Slender?”

“I’ve always liked blonds,” Galo said with a wink.

And he was pleasantly surprised to see Lio flush.

_Got him._

“If you’re bored, we can leave.”

“I am _your_ service,” Galo insisted. “I am at your beck and call. If you want to stand around, staring at that…guy, fishing in a boat, for four hours, I will…get you some snacks. If you want me to get down on my knees and let you sit on my back so you can stare especially hard at that lady suffering from severe postpartum depression while she stares at a bowl of bananas, just say the word.”

“Just say the word and you’ll get on your knees?” Lio asked, tilting his head in that almost felinely playful way that Galo was becoming used to.

His turn to feel hot in the face.

“Just one.”

* * *

Lio had mercy on him.

Directed him from the art museum to the planetarium.

A vast improvement, in Galo’s eyes.

Although perhaps he wasn’t enjoying it for the same reason Lio was.

Oh sure, the projector was high-tech.

And he’d never seen stars, swirling around him in eddies, as though the nebulas of the galaxy could be brushed with the tips of one’s fingers as easily as a celestial babbling brook.

It was a dazzling display of diamond bodies hovering in the air like lost souls after a harrowing battle between heaven and earth, glittering corpses easily tugged and pulled in the direction of a casual hand, an impartial deific observer, twirling the exalted and corporeal skies on the tip of their finger nail.

But he grew bored of it easily.

Lio seemed to enjoy roaming the stars from the comfort of his seat.

He flicked through solar systems like a particularly dusty old book, his eyes fascinated, glowing like lightning bugs along a lonely path at dusk, the only constellation in that marvelous room that held Galo’s attention like a devoted priest to his most holy shrine.

He watched Lio for a long time.

But it was dark.

And it was warm.

And Lio himself was very warm, always gave off this heat, as though he were a living furnace, a space heater with a great pair of legs and a waist perfect for throwing your arm around.

And it was so hard…staying awake…when his second job was so exhausting…

Galo’s eyes fluttered closed.

He slumped over in his seat.

He dreamt of riding…some kind of creature.

A whale, perhaps?

Or maybe that other creature Lio had mentioned?

Whatever it was, it was big.

It was graceful.

And it was gentle.

It cut through the water with long, deep thrusts of its massive tail.

And Galo floated with it, unafraid of the fathomless depths and the creatures lurking below.

And then the scene changed, as they often did in dreams.

No longer was he floating on the back of a behemoth, but lying in a field of bright golden grass, a sea of wheat.

The sun beating down on his brow, sweat dripping off his nose.

He reached out to swat at it.

But instead, his hand caught a hold of something soft.

A cheek.

Soft, warm, delicate.

Golden hair fell against his face, the softest thing he’d ever felt.

Lio, straddling his chest, legs on either side of him, his hands on his chest.

Blocking the sun, yet not.

Trading places with it, perhaps.

Radiating his own warmth, like his eyes were twin suns, illuminating the cold far reaches of space and flinging light and life to the recesses of the universe.

His eyes, bright and playful and sweet as summer rain.

“You’re beautiful,” Galo whispered.

“Thank you.”

Galo’s eyes opened then.

And he woke up, back on earth.

In the dark of the planetarium.

There were no longer millions of stars, but one single star.

It shone directly overhead as though it were a spotlight to their monument of sins.

Galo realized with a little pleasant-unpleasant jolt, that he had fallen over.

That the dividing arm between their seats was up.

And that his head had fallen against Lio’s lap.

And that was where it was, right that moment.

He stirred, wanting to sit up.

But to his surprise, and slight alarm, Lio draped his elbow over his ear, pinning him down.

“Lio!”

“You’re a very good armrest,” the young man said neutrally. “Stay put.”

Galo stilled.

And Lio didn’t move an inch, except to stroke Galo’s hair.

Slowly.

Carefully.

His fingers teasing the roots of his blue hair, scratching soothingly into his scalp.

“No one’s here but us,” Lio said, bending down to whisper. His lips brushed against Galo’s ear, and he felt a shiver going through his entire body, one he knew his companion could feel. “Just two stars, alone in the entire universe. Is that lonely, Galo? Are we lonely together?”

Galo thought about answering.

But it didn’t feel right.

It just didn’t.

So he just closed his mouth.

And Lio sighed.

He bent down, chest curling around Galo’s head, almost soothingly warm, his heart beat steady and strong, pumping the rhythm of his life force directly into his ears, singing a song meant only for him (and by god, was he listening, was he memorizing the beat, so that his heart could carry the same tune).

Lio’s hand left his hair, and he almost groaned at the loss.

But then it went to his face.

Gently tracing the curve of his jaw.

And then his cheek.

A trail of fire, blazing behind its path.

_Can a match fall in with a spark?_

_Can a mighty oak love a wildfire?_

_Can a house doused in gasoline survive a furious night of broken glass and splintered embers?_

_Love is not always self-preservation and the protection of one’s dignity._

_Sometimes love is the humiliating and broken act of observing your own demise, reflected in someone else’s gaze, but you hold them close anyway, you keep your own eyes open, your heart torn to pieces and bleeding out into the hands of another._

_Because you would rather bear witness to the death of your own body, than endure the death of your own soul._

“None of that,” Lio breathed into his ear. “Go back to sleep. You’re dreaming.”

* * *

Galo thought that maybe he should suggest somewhere they could go today.

And after the…incident at the planetarium, Lio agreed.

But he was foolish to do so, and he only realized it later, curled up in his bed, burrowed in his blankets again.

Because there were so many people.

Because he had never been around so many people before.

People holding hands.

People hugging.

People dragging their children around, their wives, their husbands, their girlfriends, boyfriends, their mothers and fathers and uncles and aunts and cousins.

There were throngs of people, and Lio had never, ever been anywhere so crowded and joyous.

And Galo, in his element finally, and not Lio’s, was at a tactical advantage.

He knew where he was going, and what he wanted to do.

And Lio was just along for the ride.

Pun intended.

“I’ve never been on a rollercoaster before,” Lio admitted. “What have I gotten myself-?”

Before he could even finish his question, he let out a gasp.

Because this old rollercoaster was rickety.

The metal felt weak and cheap, held together by glue and tape.

And this felt wondrously, and terrifyingly, ridiculous.

“Don’t you worry,” Galo said loudly, over the bang of the engine as the little train of carts made their way up the steep hill. “You’ll like how it feels. I know you will. Everyone does.”

“I don’t believe you,” Lio said.

Impulsively, he reached over the safety harness.

His hand found Galo’s.

He didn’t look at him, couldn’t really, because of the head protectors holding their faces forward.

But Galo squeezed his hand.

And neither of them had to be looking at each other to know what had just transpired.

“Even if you don’t, this is payback then!”

“What?” Lio yelled. “For _what_?”

The car teetered on the edge of the great precipice.

Lio’s stomach jolted with fear.

Several people behind him screamed in excitement and thrilling fear.

It was stupid, incredibly foolish.

But he couldn’t help it.

He grabbed a hold of Galo’s arm with both hands, and held tightly, as though that would save him from the fall that was coming.

And they both screamed, air whooshing past their faces at dizzying speeds, adrenaline kicking their danger senses into overdrive, blood rushing to their heads as they fell together, twisting and turning, looping and diving.

It wasn’t until much later, after Lio staggered out of the ride’s ramp exit, his head throbbing, but his entire chest alive with the rush, the high, of escaping death with satisfaction and glee, that Galo explained.

And by that point, Lio had totally forgotten what he said.

So Galo had reiterated…

“That was payback,” he said.

“For what?”

“For every goddamn time you’ve ever talked back to me,” Galo said. “For every time you’ve teased me and…all of the things you do to me. What we just went through together, on that ride? I feel that every time I so much as think about you. So you think about that. Because now you know how it feels. And it doesn’t feel so good, now does it?”

Lio, still a little out of breath, and maybe a little exhausted, just huffed for a little while, trying to get his bearings.

But finally, after a few minutes of Galo swallowing nervously, wondering if maybe he’d revealed his hand too early, he let out a weak, chuckling wheeze.

“I don’t know. I kind of liked it.”

* * *

“One last ride.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“…Food first, but only one more ride. Kra- I mean. _He._ Is definitely going to be checking what time you and I went out, every day. And my uncle is going to be his main source of information,” Lio said dryly.

Galo clapped his hands together in thanks and triumph.

“Ok. But today, I’m paying.”

His slender young companion raised an eyebrow.

“Galo, you shouldn’t-”

“I want to.”

“You can’t afford to.”

“Wrong, as always. I can afford this, trust me.”

“…Oh no,” Lio said. “No, you’re not going to make me eat…”

“What? You’ve never had pizza before?” Galo asked.

Then, as Lio made as though to run away, he lunged at him, grabbed him around the waist, and dragged him bodily towards the amusement park food court.

“Have you really never eaten pizza before? You’re in for a treat, I don’t know why you look as though you’re being forced to eat raw toad liver and eel spleen,” Galo said as he came back to their table, juggling a long square box in his hands.

“Because any food you like is probably on the same level of weird and unusual as raw…toad liver and eel spleen,” Lio said with a grimace. “Good god, that is so much meat.”

“This? I went easy on you. I normally load these things with anchovies and sausage and bacon and pepperoni and turkey,” Galo said with a snort, looking over the top of the pizza lid to peer down hungrily at the contents of the box. “You’re lucky I only got you pepperoni.”

“I haven’t eaten that either.”

“Pepperoni? God, you poor, deprived, maladjusted brat.”

“I’m only allowed to eat vegetables, fruits, and non-red meat proteins.”

“Oh my god,” Galo whispered in mock-horror, his eyes brimming with faux-tears. “You don’t know what it’s like to feel alive.”

“This seems like an exaggeration.”

The blue-haired driver leaned across the table then.

Slice in hand.

Lio eyed it, hard, as though it might rear up and attack him.

Then he glanced at Galo’s bare hand, holding the slice out to him.

“Where have your hands been?”

“Only my pants, my nose, my ears, my underwear, and a sink…full of dirty dishes.”

“I believe you.”

Galo shook the slice.

A tiny sliver of pepperoni fell onto the table.

Lio watched with distaste as a drip of grease joined it, oozing from the melted cheese.

“You’ll love it. Everyone loves it,” Galo said teasingly. “Come on, boy. Come on.”

He whistled, making kissy noises as though Lio were a dog.

And the blond shot him a glare that was half icy, half bemused.

“Come on. Just a nibble,” Galo wheedled. “Just a bit. It won’t kill you. Or go to those gorgeous thighs. Or that Greek sculpted ass. Everyone’s allowed to have pizza every once and a while. Everyone. Even the Burnish heir to the House of Ardere-Adjustus.”

Lio inched forward in his seat.

And Galo held the slice steady as Lio hesitantly leaned forward.

And took just the smallest, slightest nibble off the end of the slice.

Galo watched him like a hawk, hand still outstretched.

And Lio chewed very, very slowly, eyes still cautious.

For a solid minute, they both stared at each other, frozen in place, not sure what to expect.

But then Lio spoke first.

And it was in a hushed, wondering tone: “I have never been alive until today, in this moment.”

And Galo whooped.

And immediately threw the rest of the slice into his mouth in celebration.

* * *

"This doesn't seem like a ride." 

"It is," Galo insisted. "A Ferris Wheel is a ride." 

Lio smiled, staring out the window at the setting sun. 

The carriage was a little intimidating.

Swinging so...cavalierly in the wind. 

But the Ferris Wheel turned slowly. 

"We're going to be in trouble for being late." 

"It's worth it, isn't it? It's so peaceful up here." 

It was, Lio could give him that.

Although it didn't feel like a "ride," given how all of the other rides had felt. 

All the loops they had done.

The deadly speeds, the exhilarating acceleration. 

Whether they were riding on a track or spinning around an axis, or dropping from a tower up high. 

Oh, how his heart felt as though it could leap out of his chest! 

"Galo?" 

His driver, whose hands and face were pressed up against the glass of their carriage, turned towards him inquisitively. 

"...Lio?" 

The windows were steaming up.

Oh, how embarrassing, what was he, a child again?

Incapable of controlling his own internal heat, like some kind of toddler?

"This was a great suggestion. Thank you for bringing me here. This was...fun."

Galo smiled. 

Then swiped his hand through the fog on the window. 

Drawing a smiley face.

"Glad to hear it." 

The wheel began to turn. 

And didn't stop, until they were at its highest point. 

Lio's heart nearly thumped out of his chest. 

"I know we said we wouldn't talk about it. But...you know. Kray isn't going to be around...for a while." 

"...I know that." 

Lio nodded. 

But he couldn't say it, couldn't go through with it.

What was he thinking? 

What nonsense- what utter bullshit. 

What was he proposing? 

What was he going to do- ruin everything? 

For himself, for Galo, for Kray Foresight, for every Burnish across the thirteen colonies? 

Ridiculous, selfish, impractical, stupid, idiotic. 

"I...have really enjoyed our time together." 

"Yes." 

Galo wanted him to get to the point.

He could see it in his eyes.

And Lio was powerless, completely vulnerable to the high-powered perception of Galo's gaze. 

To the cutting lazer of his eyes, easily penetrating through the layers of careful defenses he'd had in place since he was a child. 

Museums, parks, highways, amusement parks, planetariums, aquariums, oh the places they had been. 

Each place, a wall. 

Crumbling on down. 

To destroy him.

To destroy his family.

And everything he had been born for. 

"...It's been nice. It's nice," Lio croaked. 

Couldn't say it.

Couldn't commit to it.

Couldn't break his vow, couldn't ruin everything, even if it would be so easy, it would be so gratifying. 

But luckily for him, Galo was impatient.

And he was angry. 

Furious at Lio's hesitation.

And at the fact that he had waited.

That he was still waiting now.

And most importantly, that he was forcing Galo to act.

The selfish, self-centered, spoiled brat, expecting everyone to do everything for him. 

Galo surged forward, a wave crashing down against the rocky shore with the force of a tsunami, splitting rocks and crushing buildings and smashing cars. 

And all Lio could do was catch him. 

Lean back, legs tensing, feet bracing against the carriage floor, not in protest, but in sheer desperation, to keep himself grounded (ha!) in some way. 

When Galo touched his neck, both hands holding him tightly, as though to strangle him, Lio mirrored him, grabbing a hold of him in a similar manner, his fingers trembling as he reassured, or rather, pacified Galo marginally with his touch. 

And when Galo pressed hot, impatient lips on his, graceless and inelegant, he almost protested. 

Because his first gut reaction was that this is wrong.

This isn't how it's supposed to be! 

Galo was cold. 

Nowhere near as hot as a Burnish was. 

Could this work- no, it could not, for many reasons, but most importantly for this- 

But the thought never finished.

Because Lio too was impatient.

And he'd reacted too quickly. 

He hadn't given Galo the time he needed, as a poor non-Burnish. 

To heat up. 

When Galo, never the type to beat around the bush, darted his tongue out, exploring the roof of his mouth, poor Lio Fotia, heir to the House of Ardere, gasped. 

Eagerly, clumsily, he mirrored this movement too. 

And then. 

Well. 

He learned then that Galo was more than capable of producing his own form of heat.

And he was a fool to have never seen it.

An inexperienced child, incapable of seeing the future or understanding a sensation that he had never personally come in contact with and brushing off commensurate beliefs and thought processes as illusions. 

Galo hugged him tightly, their bodies touching, chest-to-chest, pressing him against the wall and window of the cramped little carriage, his lovely muscular arms tight and firm around him, his hands squeezing his shoulders. 

And he kissed him without poise, without purpose, without shame. 

And without a shred of dignity. 

And for once in Lio's life, he thought, maybe only here and now, and maybe never again, he knew what it was like to feel _burned._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of these days i am GOING to get to smut, for god's sake. 
> 
> but i am also god's greatest emotional cocktease, and i will absolutely wring out forced sentimentality before penis rubbing every time, and every way first. 
> 
> god i'm so tired, i have no idea if anything i just wrote is coherent. forgive me, jesus.


	4. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the holidays off, but I'm back now, my boys and girls and enbies. 
> 
> I totally wasn't obsessively playing Warframe, what would make you think that, ahahahaha
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

A long time ago, Lio had read a psychological crime novel about a spy fighting an evil international terrorist organization while struggling to expose corruption within his own organization.

It wasn’t the best book, rather dry in fact, with too many coincidences and strange political errors.

But out of all the books Lio had ever read, it was probably the only one he had that even somewhat resembled what his life became.

Because although he was not fighting any evil organization, he certainly was playing cloak and dagger.

Kissing Galo in the kitchen broom closet, his back sore from being pressed into the shelves, fingers grasping at non-perishables and glass jars and crates of produce.

Tugging on his gorgeous long hair, and feeling his rough fingers pulling at his own scalp, hips grinding against hips in the storage basement.

Galo’s knee grinding against his crotch, dragging an embarrassing, high-pitched gasp from his lips, his strong arms pinning him down in the non-fiction marine wildlife section of the palace library.

“We’re going to get caught,” Galo protested one day, somewhere in between attacking Lio’s mouth with a breath-taking ferocity.

Lio, only granted a reprieve as his driver attacked his throat, laying a burning trail of kisses from his Adam’s apple to his chin, then to his jaw, only replied, “We’d get caught in-ahh- public too.”

“Should we not be doing this?”

“Hmmm…”

It felt good to break the rules.

And it felt good to be with Galo.

Not just kissing and groping and rubbing, god, a lot of rubbing, but holding hands.

Tilting his head against Galo’s shoulder on the hood of the carriage, fingers on his warm chest.

Carding his fingers through his hair as though he were petting a dog, and having him lean into his touch like one too.

It was like a secret mission.

Seeing what he could get away with, without getting caught.

Knowing if they did, it was the end for both of them.

In his small, limited world, it was the most exhilarating relationship he’d ever had with another person, and one with stakes higher than he knew how to deal with.

“Galo…you do know that…all you have to do is say the word, and I will give you anything you want?” Lio asked him.

They were sitting on the hood of the carriage.

Watching the sun dip into the lake, slowly slipping into the horizon.

Insects humming around them, but not bothering them.

Animals rustling through the grass.

The deep blue sky.

It was like a page out of a romance novel, and yet, Lio could never have imagined such peace could truly exist in the real world.

“…Is this the part where I say, that this is all I have ever wanted?” Galo asked. Hand squeezing at Lio’s hip, pulling him closer, gluing him firmly to his side. “Because I’d love it if you bought me a carriage of my own.”

“It’d be nice for you to love me for more than my money,” Lio said without thinking.

Then he felt heat creeping into his cheeks.

Did he really just say loved?

Galo didn’t seem to notice or linger on it too much, though.

“I’m a man of discerning tastes, I just can appreciate more than one blessing in my life.”

And if the word love didn’t make him properly blush, that did.

* * *

_Did he just say love?_

Galo kept his face as neutral as possible.

Couldn’t let him know he was having heart palpitations at just the mere mention, the suggestion, the nerve-

This isn’t good.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

They warned him not to get too close to his target.

But they didn’t realize it wasn’t Kray Foresight they had to worry about.

That stuck up bastard with his cold eyes and smirking mouth and uppity rich person’s aura.

And the heat he gave off like a furnace was uncomfortable to be around, the kind of humidity you just couldn’t get away from.

Not like Lio.

Warm. Cozy. Like being near a warm furnace.

Or at the hearth.

The heat almost unbearable on your cheeks, but the kind you couldn’t shrink away from.

The kind of heat that hurts just a little, singes the surface, but warms the outer reaches of one’s soul.

Oh fuck.

What on earth was he doing?

He’d confess.

He’d confess tonight, and they’d pull him right out.

They had to, right?

But god, he didn’t want to.

Didn’t want to lose the only days where he felt like he was good, that he was kind, that he had some dignity, that his mind was calm, and his life was at peace.

_But Lio is the enemy, isn’t he?_

His heart feels the blasphemy of that statement.

But his mind does not.

* * *

Lio thought about it long and hard.

He agonized over the right thing to do, the wrong thing, argued with himself, weighed the pros and cons, negotiated with himself, wheedled, commanded.

But in the end, the choice was easy.

It started off very simple.

Galo invited him to the beach.

It seemed like an innocent idea at the time.

And a good one.

Galo loved hearing Lio ramble about wildlife.

Particularly aquatic life.

So he drove him out to the sandy shores, their conversation light and cheerful as they passed miles of idyllic country side, dotted with spaced out farms and scatters of trees.

He brought a blanket, but neither of them brought bathing suits.

(And maybe that was defeat in itself.)

“Any whales out there?” Galo joked.

“Maybe,” Lio said, letting the warm waves wash over his feet.

Then he began to strip.

Galo moved, (was he blushing?) turning around in embarrassment.

“What are you doing?”

“Going for a swim. Come with me.”

“No way!”

“Oh, you just want to watch? You pervert.”

As Galo spluttered, he dove right in.

It was a different kind of warmth than the kind he knew.

Softer, almost hypnotizing.

It lulled him into a false sense of security.

And when a grumbling Galo waded in after him, his swimming rather rough and graceless, he laughed and playfully splashed him, prompting him to grab his head and push him under.

It was so innocent at first, as though they were children again.

Galo tried to drown him, and he tickled his belly, forcing him to surface for air as he laughed, or risk inhaling salt water.

Galo then retaliated by goosing him while his back was turned, grabbing his hips and blowing in his ear.

But it devolved from there.

Because Galo suddenly became self-conscious as he wrapped his arms around Lio’s waist, holding him from behind, pressing his lips against his pale, slender neck.

And Lio became self-conscious as he felt Galo’s chest against his back.

Shivering as he felt his cock nudge against his hip.

“Uh…we should go…back to shore.”

Lio wiggled against him, pushing against his grip in order to turn, their chests now touching.

He lifted his leg and wrapped it around his back, pulling them even closer together.

Galo leaned in to kiss him.

But instead they both spluttered, inhaling salt water, as a wave crashed down on their heads.

And just like that, they were both made aware of their thirst, and hunger.

So they headed back to shore.

And they kissed, and Galo intertwined his fingers in Lio’s as he pressed him into the sand, but nothing else happened.

But Lio realized then, his choice was made.

And he didn’t need to think about it twice after that.

* * *

The bastards applauded him.

They didn’t understand.

They smiled and said that was brilliant, Galo.

What better way to ruin the union of two powerful Burnish houses?

What better method of espionage, of sabotage, and rebellion, than worming dissent between the two heirs?

And once that thought had stained his mind, every moment with Lio Fotia, no matter how simple, how joyous, became nothing more than a farce.

A cosmic joke being played on him.

And he hadn’t thought it could get worse, that he could feel worse about the situation.

Until the day of the Mars Festival.

When all of Lio’s servants and body guards and nosy family members (such as that meddlesome uncle and his son) left to partake in the festivities.

The first, and only time, Galo was allowed inside of his palace.

At first, the implications didn’t dawn on him.

All he could think was, I have never seen such a complicated looking ceiling.

I have never seen someone with towers on their house, with three kitchens, with servants’ quarters and multiple balconies and a roof you could spit off of and actually lose track of your own spit.

And Lio was beside himself with excitement, showing him every nook and cranny, squeezing into childhood haunts and showing Galo all of his secret places.

Like all of their meetings, it was infectiously fun.

Lio always made him feel so young.

Like all the years they had been apart, he hadn’t aged a bit.

He’d forgotten what it was like, being a kid, with the whole world spread out before you like a beautiful canvas.

The eye in the storm that was the rest of the world.

They ate dinner in an enormous dining hall, with plaques of animal heads with horns.

They watched movies in the library, on a big screen, sitting in beanbag chairs and talking right through.

Laughed at some silly horror movies, cringed at the better ones, had to watch a few comedies to psychologically recover.

“Are you going to get in trouble for watching all R-rated movies tomorrow?” Galo teased as Lio lead him up to his room by the wrist.

“Doubtful. They don’t yell at me too much about anything, so long as I behave.”

Galo snorted at that.

Lio was one of the least behaved people he knew.

“They wouldn’t be happy about this.”

Lio fumbled with the door of his bedroom, grabbing at his pockets.

“Your door locks from the outside?”

Lio smiled wryly at him then.

“Just a security measure. As a child, I used to wander a lot.”

“You? No way!”

Lio lead him into his bedroom, and Galo marveled at its size, at the beautiful white ceiling with golden trim, and the canopy over his bed, as well as the gorgeous marble balcony overlooking the city.

He also smirked at all the stuffed animals, which Lio caught, throwing a stuffed archleviathan at him with a frown.

“Let’s go out to the balcony. Catch the fireworks?”

Galo agreed.

It was a cool night.

A steady breeze pushing off some of the heat from earlier that morning.

The air was charged with electricity, every light in the city burning bright like earthbound stars caught in a mortal web.

They could see thousands, hundreds of thousands, all crammed together in the street, cheering and waving.

“We’re missing a real party, huh?” Galo joked.

Lio shrugged.

“The only person I really want to be with tonight is you,” he said simply.

His heart soared higher than a firework.

Lio was leaning against the railing, his face dark, his body outlined by the dim glow of city lights, his beautiful blond hair a halo of virtue in the descending night.

Galo suddenly felt a swell of power, of satisfaction, in his chest as he looked down at the city below, Lio still in his peripherals, wondering if this is how a god felt in the sky, looking down on troubled mortals.

He moved closer to Lio, grabbing his hand and locking their arms together tightly.

His heart roared with triumph as the smaller teenager leaned against him.

How gratifying, to feel as though you were a protector, that someone needs you, that someone wants you, and would miss you if you were gone.

The first firework rocketed up into the sky and exploded.

And it took Galo’s heart with it.

He bent down and captured Lio’s lips in a passionate embrace.

He was addicted to the warmth Lio gave off like a running engine, would gladly boil in the liquid radiance of his being, not just physically but emotionally, Lio was a newborn star, his surface and his core could birth entire galaxies. A whole universe, cupped in his hands. The brightest star that existed in the city that night.

Lio responded with the same fervor, with more.

They stumbled back into the bedroom, Galo’s hands roaming places he’d grazed before, but had never explored properly.

His fingers fumbled at Lio’s belt, and he bucked against him, wild for his touch, only his.

Not only let him pull his pants down, but actively helped him, leaning back onto his bed and pulling his clothes off as Galo fumbled at his own.

All the little kisses, the big ones, the short ones, the long ones.

They all had contributed to this overdrive, this explosion of need and want and forbidden desire.

All those days where they could go anywhere they pleased.

But had never quite reached here.

Galo grinned into their sloppy kiss, peppering kisses on his forehead, on his cheeks, on his throat as he pushed the other teenager into the bed, their bare thighs touching, legs entwining together.

It felt so good to press Lio into his childhood bed, smiling down at his hair, messy and wild and fanning out underneath him, feel him wiggling beneath him, his legs warm and tight around him, pulling him closer, urging him deeper.

Lio let out a rather undignified squeak as Galo’s cock brushed against his.

Galo smiled.

He danced his fingers along Lio’s inner thigh, noticing his shiver with satisfaction.

“Do you know how this works? Between…?”

“…Before…we met again…I knew that Kray and I would…someday…so I did research,” Lio admitted.

Something cold stilled Galo’s heart for a moment.

He felt unclean, sullied by the thought of him, the man responsible for this, the man behind this situation, and his real target.

But Lio wasn’t a target.

He wasn’t a mission.

He was-

Turning on his side.

Reaching under the bed.

Pulling out a tube.

“Do you want to, or…?”

Galo grabbed his wrist.

“Let me?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically small, as though he were a little boy.

Lio grinned at his tone, but he looked nervous.

And Galo was nervous too, but he didn’t want to show it.

Didn’t want to scare him, didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want-

Don’t overthink it.

Just…

He squirted lubricant from the tube onto his fingers, rubbing them together to get them properly wet.

Lio leaned back, utterly at Galo’s mercy, sending a shiver down his spine for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

He didn’t move when Galo’s index finger penetrated his entrance, only scrunching his nose a little in mild discomfort.

“Am I-?”

“Shut up. No.”

Galo chuckled nervously at that reaction, but inside his heart was fluttering.

He was scared by how tight he felt, was this hurting?

Was he in pain?

How could he not be?

But Lio didn’t look hurt.

Just a little tense.

“Relax,” Galo whispered. As though Lio were a small child or a dog, he shushed him, slowly, painstakingly, pushing in little by little.

Pushing until the walls clenched a little less firmly, and his tight muscles began to relax, and he was breezing much easier.

Even panting a little.

One particularly slow, but deep, jab had him gasping.

That reaction sent a shiver of heat straight to his crotch, his dick already hard at attention, straining against the bedsheets, because god Lio Fotia was so beautiful, the skin of his waist so soft, the narrow lanes of his waist, the beautiful curve of his hips and thighs and that _ass_ too perfect for any living human being.

Why was he so fucking gorgeous, and why was he letting a non-Burnish street rat see him like this?

It must be a cosmic miracle, a statistical improbability bound to happen once in twenty millennia.

Who was he to deny the science of the matter?

Once he’d gotten up to three fingers, all pressed firmly inside of the firm, heated clench of his body, he thought that was good enough, do you think it’s good enough, Lio?

And Lio, not particularly shy, even in this situation, nodded quickly, his face finely flushed as though he’d been outside in the harsh sun for a day.

Galo hesitated, because he had to, because he still couldn’t believe, couldn’t quite process-

But at the same time, every nerve in his body was on fire, every muscle begging him to get on with his, his entire body taut as a bow string, desperate for skin-on-skin contact, and if all the stars had fallen from the sky, into place, for this to happen, then if he waited too long, maybe he would wake up, maybe this was a dream, and it would all disappear if he waited even a second.

With two diametrically opposed needs in his system, Galo could only move at half speed.

He crawled forward, sinking between Lio’s spread legs, and looked down.

Grabbing his cock in his shaking hand, he pushed the head into the younger teenager’s entrance.

Slowly, always slowly, carefully, always carefully.

They both gasped then, Lio at the feeling of being penetrated, the slight pain associated with the initial stretch, and Galo at the heat, at the _wetness,_ and the delicious friction bound around his cock, the stimulation of the sheer pressure.

If there was a heaven on earth…

But Galo could resist, he could.

He could be a saint.

He held out as long as he could, face to face with the boy, no, the man he’d grown to love.

Lio’s eyes were clenched shut, so he took the time to admire the perfection of his face, the angle of his jaw, his hands falling to his sides, rubbing him soothingly as he adjusted to his size.

Finally, Lio seemed to relax again.

He nodded quickly, as though to convince himself more than Galo that he was ready.

And Galo, unable to maintain his own composure, finally at his own breaking point, pushed in further.

Lio was making noises like a wounded animal, but he kept going, because it was like ripping off a band-aid, because he would adjust, it would be easier to get it over with, right, and oh, of course, because he couldn’t resist that friction anymore, couldn’t resist the need to move, to stake his claim on Lio’s body, and on his soul.

And although he sounded hurt, he couldn’t have been, or he wasn’t for long, because as Galo began to thrust harder and harder, pushing deeper and deeper, a fire burned in his eyes.

Suddenly they were alight with passion, with a pleasure so powerful it was more akin to pain, and Lio’s nails dug into his spine, his legs locked behind his back, and he began to push back against Galo’s thrusts, forcing him even deeper than before.

And every time his muscles clenched, his ass squeezing tight around Galo’s cock in a vice grip, his blue-haired lover groaned low in his throat, his heart about to pound out of his chest, his chest, which was so constricted he almost couldn’t breathe.

Just when he couldn’t take it anymore, Lio made a noise somewhere between a moan and a scream.

He surged upwards, and caught Galo in the chest, wrapping his arms around him, face buried in his shoulder.

Although his mouth was covered, Galo could feel him babbling into his skin, jerked with the almost unbearable electricity that shot through him as Lio orgasmed, his entrance squeezing down tighter than ever around his cock, and it was the thought that he had done that, he had made Lio scream, shout so loud they might’ve been caught, but how delicious that idea was, the whole world knowing he was the first person in the world to have him like this, and _he_ had wrung that feeling out of the man he loved, that ushered him across his own finish line.

* * *

Later, exhausted and spent and totally ignorant of the danger inherent in their compromising positions, Lio laid his head against Galo’s chest and stared up at his ceiling, imagining the Scorch Cavern ceiling, as he always had.

And yet, it didn’t bring him the comfort it once had as a child.

Not when he had the real thing, right here, right now.

“I sometimes thought…as a child…that I could never live like a non-Burnish,” he whispered.

Galo, on the brink of sleep, grunted something in affirmation that he had heard.

“But I always thought it would be torturous, like living in an eternal winter. I was alone most of my childhood. Most of my life. All I ever wanted to do was read books and draw and watch movies and pretend I was someone else. All I ever had for company was my flames. Sad, right?”

Galo’s eyes were closed, but he wasn’t breathing deeply.

Lio could feel him listening in a way no one ever did, no one except him.

“But I know better now. I thought it would be cold, I thought it would feel empty. I thought life would be devoid of…passion, that human beings must live their lives in a fog, never knowing what summer feels like. But isn’t it funny, after meeting you, I know that what I was like before was the real winter.”

Galo smiled.

He reached for Lio with a sleepy hand and pushed his face down.

“Did you want a second round?”

“…Not right now?”

“Then go to sleep. All this chatting, I must not have tired you out.”

Lio laughed, and then Galo laughed at his own joke.

And they both trembled together, feeling the soft vibrations of the other’s body against theirs, and it was like they had never been apart a day in their lives.

* * *

The next morning, Lio had to sneak Galo out, starting a fire in the kitchen as a distraction.

While his poor non-Burnish servants ran about, screaming and searching for a fire extinguisher, he dragged Galo out the back entrance.

And Galo surreptitiously snuck back to the front of the house, where he got into Kray Foresight’s carriage, and drove it back to his palace.

That weekend, he wasn’t able to call Lio, for Lio received a two day “training” course from his uncle on new Burnish tax policies across their multiple colonies, none of which Lio absorbed, as he was too distracted by the color of his pen, almost the same exact shade of Galo’s eyes.

Then, finally, the next week, he was allowed to go out.

He was filled with zealous energy as he pelted out of the palace’s main entrance, ecstatic to see Galo after two torturous days without him.

He flung himself at the gates and hastily slammed them shut behind him.

He grabbed the door handle and eagerly let himself in.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning.”

Lio froze.

Galo was there, he was sitting in the front seat, same as usual, but his eyes were straight ahead, not glancing into the mirror, shining as he smiled back at Lio.

Lio glanced at him, but couldn’t look at him for long.

Not when Kray Foresight, who he hadn’t seen for a very long time, was sitting in the backseat waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically shorter than usual, but....have mercy on me. I was gonna post this yesterday but AO3 was down. 
> 
> Anyway. I am incapable of writing good porn, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, Rae, I am not worthy.


	5. Consort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back.

Kray Foresight had been thinking about home for a long time.

Maybe not consciously.

But in his dreams, he walked the streets of his home city, treading familiar grounds, visiting old haunts.

Always following someone.

Who had previously been in his reach, but had lately, been frustratingly elusive, walking faster, gliding away from him like a specter.

Losing that figure in the fog of his mind always left him feeling uneasy and dissatisfied when he woke.

And lately, he had begun to feel this itch.

Nowhere on the surface of his skin, but deep beneath.

Like there was a little hollowed space somewhere within and it could only be filled by something not currently within his grip.

So he came home.

It was good timing anyway, with the civil unrest in his home city, the protests against his own home Burnish kingdom.

He thought about letting Lio know.

But he figured, Lio would probably appreciate being surprised more.

He must be bored, only having some human driver for company.

Kray decided on the drive home that he could stand to be more lenient with Lio.

He was playing ball, wasn’t he? Aside from the occasional mischief, he mostly had kept to himself, not embarrassing Kray in public.

And having a husband who wasn’t interested in politics was probably a good thing, in retrospect.

It meant he wasn’t going to stick his nose in things he had no right to, meant he wouldn’t try to undermine him, or betray him when the opportunity arose.

He was strange and quirky, but time away from Lio gave him a better, newer perspective.

So he thought he’d surprise him with a visit.

But he hadn’t expected this reaction.

“K-Kray…I wasn’t…how are you?” Lio said awkwardly.

Kray frowned at him.

Why was he acting so…stiff?

Like a deer in headlights, or some kind of cornered animal.

“I…thought you…would be excited,” Kray said. “I mean. We haven’t seen each other for a while.”

Why did he feel like he did something bad?

Lio wasn’t supposed to make him feel this way.

Why wouldn’t he be happy?

Or was this some trick?

Was he toying with him?

But Kray had never seen him look like this…

Nervous.

Since when had Lio ever been nervous, almost as though he had something to lose.

Or something to hide.

“I’m happy you’re back,” Lio said softly.

His tone was low, almost a murmur, and Kray turned to look at him, his heart leaping with worry.

To his surprise, Lio is very, very close to him, their noses almost touching, his breath warm on his face. Were his eyes always this beautiful? Was his skin always so soft and pale, like fine china, the shape of his face gentle, his every feature flawless, as though he’d been sculpted rather than born?

His heart stops as the smaller Burnish gently kisses him on the forehead.

Every muscle locked as though he were under attack.

Damn Lio and his teasing!

As Lio leaned back, his gaze turned towards the window, and the outside world, Kray cursed himself.

Still the same as always, just trying to rile him up!

“What brings you back home, Kray?”

“Politics,” Kray said immediately. “I heard the citizens of this city were restless, needing instruction, and the Burnish kingdom established in this territory needs a stable hand to guide it.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to see me,” Lio murmured.

Kray looked quickly at him, trying to tell if he was joking or not.

Didn’t seem like it, but he seemed darkly amused by something.

“That was another benefit.”

Lio smiled faintly.

“How have you been, Kray?”

“Well. You?”

“Also well,” Lio said.

“How have you liked my gift?” Kray asked, gesturing at the driver.

Lio bit his lip, as though hiding a smile.

Kray smiled cautiously back, not sure what the joke was.

“He has been most polite and very adequate, thank you.”

“Good. He was the best of the best of my servants. A little new, but very well-bred. For a non-Burnish anyway.”

Lio frowned at him.

“Why do you have to say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like non-Burnish are so beneath you.”

Kray recoiled at that statement, not just because it was unbefitting a Burnish heir, but because although his tone was fairly mild, his voice was rimmed with a thin, caustic layer of bitterness he’d never seen in Lio before (or perhaps not noticed, a little voice nagged him).

“They are.”

“That’s not a very kind opinion, Kray.”

“The truth is unkind,” he retorts.

Real anger flashes in Lio’s eyes for a moment, and Kray was struck with a red bolt of rage of his own.

But it passed, because Lio tilted his head then, and the sunlight rolled off his hair as though every individual strand was its own diamond, and Kray remembered that this exquisite creature was his, and his alone, and that he could afford to be kind. Fighting over semantics with his fiancé was undignified, base, unflattering.

“It’s no matter,” Kray said. “I won’t say such things again if you find them displeasing.”

Lio blinked, as though surprised, looking at him with a cautious, neutral gaze.

“…Ok,” he said simply.

A loaded word.

He could never be read, a book written in another language, a puzzle he could never quite solve, pieces always missing.

And he was missing something for sure.

But for now…he wanted to enjoy himself.

“Do you want to know where we’re going?” Kray asked.

Lio glanced at the driver again.

“It depends.”

“On?”

“Where do you want to go?” Kray asked.

A real smile this time, if only half of one.

But there was some fire in his eyes, finally.

A flare of personality slipping through the walls.

“Wherever you want to go. You’re the bossy one.”

Cute.

* * *

His heart was about to pound right out of his chest.

Was he playing it “cool?”

Could Kray see right through him?

He seemed more relaxed now.

But maybe that was because he made Galo wait outside.

Lio teased at the food on his plate, not feeling too hungry now, even though he had been before.

“I forgot how good the food at this restaurant was,” Kray said. “A little lower class than I typically frequent, but given how you’re dressed…”

“What, was I supposed to wear a tux to lunch?” Lio asked dryly.

Kray snorted.

Rather unusual to hear him laugh at one of Lio’s jokes.

Not like Galo.

Lio’s heart twinged for a moment, thinking about Galo, waiting outside.

Treated like a lamp post, a quiet prop.

How he longed to speak with him.

Instead of…

“It’s nice to be home.”

Lio glanced at his husband-to-be, not wanting to make eye contact for too long, afraid he might see something he shouldn’t.

“It is?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…I never can figure out what makes you happy, since you seem to enjoy being unhappy. So it’s hard for me to imagine you loving any one place.”

“I find my home city to be…pleasing. Orderly. A bastion of peace on a planet torn apart by colony politics. And…I find it…satisfying. To be…closer to you.”

Was that something like guilt worming into his chest?

“…I…thank you, Kray. It’s nice to have you home as well.”

Ok, that was the true feeling of shame.

Because when he began speaking, it was a lie.

But by the end of the sentence, it was…more complicated.

“Where do you want to go next? Where would you have gone if I hadn’t arrived?”

_I was going to take Galo to a history of the colonies museum and then we were going to make out in this very car._

“…How about a movie?” Kray asked.

Lio, consumed with guilt and unease with his current, entirely self-inflicted predicament, blindly agreed.

A mistake.

A foolish one.

It had been so long, he had forgotten, forgotten how he’d teased.

Forgotten how he’d thrown himself at the one person he believed he could have.

Because although Kray didn’t know it, things had changed between them.

Because, as Kray’s hand fell into his lap, squeezing his thigh, Lio stiffened. His insides trembled as though he’d fallen down a fathomless pit.

All he could think of was Galo, sitting outside.

And how badly he wished it was Galo in here now.

His hand, not Kray’s gripping his cock through his pants.

Lio closed his eyes, trying to imagine it, trying to calm himself, trying to keep his heart from beating too loudly.

But it was impossible.

Kray’s hands were so much bigger.

Rougher.

They squeezed tightly, roamed the valleys of his body like a conqueror rather than an explorer, and when he began to pull down the zipper of his pants, Lio had to fight the urge to gasp.

“You’ve never been touched here before by anyone but yourself?” Kray whispered in his ear. Rhetorical question, of course. He didn’t suspect, he didn’t know. His heart skittered as the other Burnish nipped gently at his lobe, teeth gently worrying at the sensitive skin. He felt so warm, but so wrong at the same time, like his core was filled with ice where it should’ve been alive with flames.

Rigid in his seat, he thought Kray would be bothered by his reluctance.

But the older teenager didn’t seem to notice.

His fingers pull at the sensitive skin of his member as though he were playing with a new toy, his thumb stroking at the skin of his scrotum, his teeth worrying at the side of his neck, nipping at him like a dog.

Lio almost laughed aloud at the thought.

What did that make him, a chew toy?

“When you touch yourself, do you think of me?”

Lio almost laughed again, what the hell was wrong with him?

This was very serious.

Maybe it was the nerves.

“Who else would I think of?” Lio murmured in response as Kray paused, unhappy with his silence. “Ah- Kray! We’re in public.”

“You didn’t have a problem the last time,” Kray complained into his skin, his voice muffled and drowned by his non-stop motion.

He was like a great pressure before a storm, and Lio suddenly could not take it anymore.

“I…need to go to the bathroom,” he said hastily. “Not feeling well. Sorry.”

And it wasn’t a lie.

He hurried out of the theater feeling as though he might throw up.

Like the world was spinning upside down and everyone was staring at him, and suddenly he wasn’t Lio Fotia, he wasn’t himself, he was just a glass doll, the weight of someone else’s name, someone else’s title crushing him until he shattered.

He didn’t stop at the bathroom.

He kept going.

Running out onto the street.

And he wasn’t sure why his heart brought him there, not until-

“Lio? Lio, where are you going?”

Galo.

That neutral face finally broken.

Worry, fear, concern.

And love, etched into his frown, the little wrinkles of his mouth, the crease in his forehead, his tense cheeks, the tight muscle of his jaw, clenched as he stared at his friend and lover.

“I just want to go…”

Where?

Lio finally let himself laugh.

Nowhere.

He had nowhere to go that was safe anymore.

Had he really forgotten, had Galo made him forget, that he was as trapped here as he was at home?

“What did he do?” his driver asked, something murky like anger clouding his eyes.

“…Nothing I didn’t invite him to,” Lio said bitterly.

It hurt to say it, but it was true.

“…I wish I could take you where you want to go, Lio,” Galo said, eyes burning with a strange, yet oddly fitting combination of fury and affection. “But right now, I don’t think either of us can go anywhere.”

How eloquently true.

A rising panic was beginning to overtake his senses, and for a wild moment, Lio thought about diving into oncoming traffic.

It must’ve shown on his face, because Galo grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the carriage.

“Galo! Anyone could’ve been watching!” Lio protested.

“You already compromised yourself by leaving, and by standing outside the theater that you and your fiancé are supposed to be enjoying themselves in,” Galo said sternly. “Stop worrying for a second and look at me.”

The shorter blond, not used to the assertiveness of his voice, obeyed the order without thinking.

Galo, not thinking either, held his face between his hands.

Rough, calloused pads scratching at Lio’s soft, warm cheeks, instinctively following a familiar trail over his temple, stroking his hair.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Galo admitted to Lio, and to himself. “I don’t know what to do for you. All I can do is tell you that you’re not alone. You don’t have to figure this out alone, we’ll figure it out together, do you hear me?”

Lio closed his eyes and just listened to his voice.

And felt his hands on his skin.

And the ice-cold fear melted away, the fires of his heart flaring up and decimating a path back into his heart.

“I hear you.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I do.”

“Good,” Galo said. “All you have to do is pretend, Lio. Whatever you say, whatever you do…I can forgive you, as long as you forgive yourself. Do you understand? Nod if you do.”

He nods.

“I don’t know what the future holds. All I know is…as long as you and I are together, everything will be fine. We will figure something out. Do you believe that, Lio?”

He could believe that.

He nodded again.

“Good. Good, Lio. We’ll figure out a way to talk, ok? But…you’re going to make him suspicious if you stay in here too long. Stay for a while, but you will need to go back in…do you understand?”

Too well.

“I can go back,” Lio said, more to himself than his lover. “I will. It won’t kill me.”

Not physically, at least.

But he fortified his heart by holding Galo’s face in his hands and kissing him long and hard, putting in all of his passion, his fear, and his wanton disregard for his own future into every movement, every thrust of the tongue, every muscle in his fingers and hands, tugging at Galo’s messy hair, every push of his lips.

* * *

He had to adjust to having Kray Foresight back in his life.

It wasn’t easy.

Even back when they visited more frequently, Kray had been more…restrained.

Something had changed in him.

Made him…insatiable.

And unpredictable.

Sometimes, it was bearable.

They watched a movie in the library, a political drama that Lio found himself nodding off at. When he woke, it was with a jolt as Kray leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

An innocent thing, just a peck.

But startling nonetheless.

At a rather somber play, he grasped at his hand in the darkness, and Lio tensed, afraid he was going to try something brazen, even scandalous right there, but he didn’t.

All he did was stroke slow, warm circles into the back of his hand.

And Lio felt a remarkable tenderness towards him, mingled with guilt, perhaps, so when Kray didn’t let go, he merely squeezed back, he held the boy’s hand across the parking lot, and only let go in the carriage, where a steely-eyed Galo refused to make eye contact.

He had to pretend to be the same Lio he always was, and sometimes, perilously, he could feel himself slipping back into that Lio, because it was so easy, so comfortable, a boring but satisfying position to hold.

He could be held, in public, late at night, early in the morning, when Kray wanted to hug him on his balcony, when they sat together on the palace roof, drinking coffee, the crisp morning air refreshing and sharp on their faces.

It was easier.

But as the days dragged on, all Lio could feel after a while was longing.

How he wanted to be with Galo.

Amusing, ironic really, that every day he saw Galo.

Sat in the same carriage as him.

And yet, it felt as though every day, they were farther and farther apart, as though they were perfect strangers, and that killed him inside.

It filled him with sorrow, and with yearning.

If only he and Galo could be the ones holding hands by the lake, watching waves roll over the rocky, muddy shore.

If only it was Galo, standing side by side with him at a pretentious new art exhibit opening gala, the two of them giggling under their breath at the stiff other guests, instead of standing, straight-backed and rigid as a tree while Kray ignored him all night, only holding his arm when others watched.

If only it was Galo, running his hands up and down his body, because although he could abide by rough, he could close his eyes and pretend Galo was just feeling adventurous, uncharacteristically demanding, he could not abide by the inherent freeze, the gnawing emptiness that lurked where Galo was missing.

He found himself hoping Kray would leave every day.

Praying.

Smiling through the social events. Laughing prettily, forcing a cordial nod here and there, clearing his eyes of any true passion whenever someone glanced at him.

But begging a higher power to take him away.

Whether that meant sending Kray back to where he came from.

Or finding somewhere far, far away to go.

* * *

He couldn’t take it.

It had only been three weeks, maybe a month, but Galo was like a powder keg, his entire body thrumming with destructive potential, his nerve endings frying like a lit detonating cord.

Keeping his expression neutral was hard enough.

But having to accompany them on every visit, watch Kray fawn with sickening fondness over Lio like he was some beautiful plaything was torture, some divine being’s sadistic, twisted fantasy, playing with real human lives as though they were actors in a play with no end, toys on a box stage.

There was anger.

Denial.

Frustration.

And worst of all, the loneliness.

He had grown accustomed to seeing Lio every day, talking to him, kissing him, making him laugh, hugging him close and letting his heat seep into his skin.

Galo had grown too accustomed to his smile, and seeing the fake one he wore when he was around Kray was a sane form of madness.

And like an addict suffering from withdrawal, he had to make his move.

He had to wait carefully for his moment.

When he dropped Lio and Kray off one night, rather than drive off, he grunted, low and submissive and subdued, “May I please use your bathroom?”

The two Burnish had almost the same knee-jerk reaction: surprise to hear him speaking.

But while Kray’s expression finally settled into distaste, Lio’s was more neutral.

“Of course.”

“Lio,” Kray said. “What are you doing?”

“What are _you_ doing?” Lio asked sardonically. “This is my house.”

It took a great deal of self control not to smile at that, but Galo did his best.

With a twinkle in his eye, Lio pointed him to the restroom.

But he didn’t go there.

Instead he lurked.

Rotated around the house, slowly, avoiding servants and other staff, always hovering near the library, where he’d last seen the two of them enter.

It felt like forever; every time he saw Lio move, his heart leapt.

But Kray was always by his side.

Finally, after a few hours of lurking that felt like infinity, Lio was finally alone.

And heading to the kitchen.

Galo moved quickly.

He grabbed Lio from the back, covering his surprised gasp with his other hand as he dragged him to the dining room.

“Hmf…Galo?” Lio exclaimed. “Oh my god, what-?”

But it had been so long that Galop couldn’t contain himself.

He surged forward like a starving man, and Lio a feast sprawled out on the table.

And Lio met him with equal force, dragging Galo forward, between his legs, locking them together behind his back, urging him closer.

How impulsively dangerous the move was, from both of them.

Anyone could’ve stumbled in.

Kray would’ve had both of their heads if he knew.

If he caught even a whisper of their illicit affair.

But Lio couldn’t say no to Galo, and Galo couldn’t quite say no to Lio either.

It didn’t last long enough, for either of them.

But almost at the exact same second, they both paused to breathe.

And then Lio put his feet back on the ground, firmly, and Galo backed up to a respectful distance, their faces flushed, but expressions a little calmer, heart beats a little quieter.

“What are you still doing here?” Lio whispered.

“I had to see you.”

“You see me every-”

“I had to talk to you. I’ve missed you. I can’t stand not talking to you, Lio.”

The Burnish stood on the tips of his toes to lay a kiss on his forehead.

“I feel the same way. But this…”

“Can we please meet again?” Galo begged.

“But when? He would know you left, you have to be on call for him, whenever he needs you…”

“He doesn’t go out at night,” Galo insisted. “I can come around midnight.”

“But what if-?”

“No what-ifs. I’ll risk it.”

“But the stakes are so much higher for you,” Lio replied. “If he finds out, he’ll have you killed.”

“And do god knows what to you,” Galo said grimly. “I’m game if you’re game.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“But it is fun,” the non-Burnish said with a grin. At Lio’s reproachful, uneasy frown, he straightened, expression more serious. “I know it’s not. And I know we can’t do what we used to do. At least, not until he leaves. But he won’t stay forever. You know he’ll be distracted by something or other, and then he’ll be gone. And then we can-“

“Do what?” Lio asked, voice suddenly small, tired. “Keep going on, in secret? Forever? Only until Kray and I are married? And then what?”

“And then, we’ll figure something out,” Galo said stubbornly. “Lio, I have no future plans, I just know that if I could make any, every single one of them would have to include you. Do you hear me?" 

Lio smiled bitterly at that.

“We’ve been reckless. And foolish.”

“Some may even say childish.”

“We can’t keep doing it.”

“I know.”

They both pause, staring at one another steadily.

“…But we’re going to do it anyway,” Lio said.

“Yes.”

“But if we must, we are going to be careful, do you understand me?” the Burnish heir asked sternly.

“Absolutely.”

Galo smiled, overjoyed, as the shorter teenager threw himself at him, wrapped his arms around his shoulders, and kissed him on the mouth once more.

* * *

Kray was scheduled to leave in twelve days.

And Lio hadn’t reacted one bit to the news.

In fact, he’d gone to great effort not to react overtly in any way.

Smiled graciously, kissed him on the cheek, and said he would miss him.

It wasn’t inherently suspicious.

In fact, it was downright polite.

And that was suspicious to him.

Or at least.

Strange.

It was wrong to think it, but…like a parasitic worm, the thought wriggled to the forefront of his brain, and stayed there.

Eating at him, day and night.

Wondering what to make of the difference.

And the way Lio was…recoiling from him now.

Not obviously…but quietly.

In little ways.

In the slight tensing of muscles every time he so much as brushed his fingers across the back of his neck.

In the cringe, the little flinch whenever his hands slipped anywhere too intimate, like his soft, plump thighs or his thin waist, with its pale sensitivity, or even just his neck, soft and unmarked, unclaimed.

In the twitch of his eye, a tiny little thing, whenever he mentioned human-Burnish politics, as though he cared.

When before, he never did.

Kray wasn’t going to wildly accuse him of anything.

But his curiosity was piqued, as well as his uneasy suspicion, an emotion too closely associated with his close guard of his reputation.

It was enough to delay his departure.

But he didn’t tell Lio. Or anyone, other than the necessary officials, who wanted briefings on his whereabouts at all times.

He told Lio he was leaving.

But instead, he pulled his driver aside.

“Servant, I have a request,” he said one day.

The human looked surprised to be spoken to directly.

Upon closer inspection, he looked…tired.

Bags under his eyes.

Perhaps he was partying too long and hard into the night.

But it was no business of Kray’s anyway.

If the non-Burnish wanted to live his life with no sense of self control or discipline, then that was his prerogative.

“Tell Lio that I’ve left,” he said authoritatively. “I need you to do something for me as well. Keep tabs on him. Every night, after he’s sent you away, I want you to report to me where he’s gone, what he did, if he’s seen anyone, or spoken with anyone.”

The driver shuffled in place, eyes down deferentially, as always. “Sir…is something the matter?”

“No. Nothing you need concern yourself with. But I believe Lio is becoming restless. I hardly blame him, his uncle keeps him on a tight leash. It’ll be different once we’re married. But right now, I believe he’s frustrated. And he can be quite…creative in his impulses. So I need you to keep an eye on him for me.”

“Yes, sir. And if you don’t mind me asking…what kind of activities are you interested in hearing about?”

But Kray just shook his head.

“It’s not any human’s concern. But I suppose…any activities he may share with…another Burnish.”

“…Another Burnish, sir?”

Kray realized a little too late that he was revealing far too much to the servant.

“You have your orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

Later, thinking back on his order, he was satisfied with his parameters.

Lio wouldn’t consort with non-Burnish, would he?

Even he wasn’t so brazen, so base, was he?

No, he couldn’t be.

But Kray had no evidence he was consorting with anyone, so why was he so obsessed with that idea?

Perhaps he’d been away too long.

His head stewing in the backstabbing of politicians and insidious plans of both allies and enemies alike.

But if Lio had nothing to hide…

He wouldn’t mind.

And even if he did, he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter anyway.


End file.
